


By the Red Moonlight

by Crimson1



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alpha Len, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Arranged Marriage, Big Gay Mobsters, Ex-Con Barry, First Time, Halloween, Len and Leo are twins, M/M, Prophecy, Roommates, Vampires, Werewolves, vampire Barry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-07-26 00:55:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 74,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16209296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson1/pseuds/Crimson1
Summary: On All Hallow’s Eve when the sky glows brightLife and death in your hands by the red moonlightA decision made to affect all othersThe city’s doom or salvation shall be on your shouldersLen always knew his life would be forever changed once his sister’s prophesy came true, he just never knew which Halloween would be the night.Then he came face to face with Barry Allen.-Alpha Len x Vampire Barry AU-





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here, at last, is my ColdFlash Week full submission, which combines all 7 days and ALL prompts. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! And yes, since some of my image sets for this, which can be found on my Tumblr http://crimsondomingo.tumblr.com/tagged/coldflashweeks2018 mention things you won't find in this first chapter, I do plan on continuing this as one of my next main projects. 
> 
> Huge thanks to Red Harlequin for all the headcanon help!
> 
> More tags to come as characters and events are added!
> 
> Enjoy!

_On All Hallow’s Eve when the sky glows bright_  
Life and death in your hands by the red moonlight  
A decision made to affect all others  
The city’s doom or salvation shall be on your shoulders

And to think, once upon a time, Len loved Halloween.

“You sure you don’t want a drink, boss?” Mick asked, often trying to distract Len when Halloween came around—get him drunk, get him into a bar fight, get him laid if he could. It never worked.

The one thing about a seer’s prophecy was that they were rarely as specific as one would like. Len didn’t know which Halloween he would have this supposed decision to make. Red moonlight might only be a metaphor, but while he was anxious every Halloween ever since his sister went into a trance and spoke those words, the whites of her eyes gone black as the irises glowed blue, any time the moon was red or even mildly orange on Halloween night, he wondered if this would be the year. 

“Thanks anyway, Mick. I’d rather keep working.” Len drummed his fingers along the edge of the car door as Mick drove him through the city, watching the lights and bustling crowds with unfocused interest.

A clever decoration or costume would catch his eye on occasion. Central City took Halloween seriously. Even City Hall got away with fake spider webs at its corners, though come morning that would likely be accompanied by toilet paper.

“Let’s finish the pickup,” Len said, “then keep making rounds. You know how the riffraff get uppity on Halloween.”

“Us shifters, ya mean,” Mick said from beside him, “or the humans in costume?”

“Exactly.”

Mick chuckled.

Shifters were a small subset of the population but powerful and influential in almost every major city. Some were run by wolves like Len and Mick, some by one of many great cat packs, or even wererats or scaled shifters. Len was the alpha of his pack and leader of Central City’s underground, dubbed _Cold_ because of his zero-tolerance policy for failed loyalty, but his crew wasn’t made up of only one race. He welcomed everyone, wolves and cats and scales alike.

Other packs in other cities didn’t appreciate how that scoffed at tradition, but Len didn’t care. Mixed company was better and made his pack stronger. It also kept the infighting down, which made it easier to ensure the supernatural remained under the radar to the average human who had no idea what went bump in the night far more frequently than only on Halloween.

Besides shifters, natural born witches, the occasional fae, and unfortunate encounters with vampires, there were a few other rare breeds that could crop up among the supernatural and humans alike. One of which was seers, people with a gift for seeing into the past, present, and future. Some seers had full control over their abilities and exploited it however they could. Some were driven mad by their powers. Some had no control at all and didn’t remember what they prophesized.

That was Lisa, Len’s baby sister, who for years hadn’t even known she was a seer because their father forbade Len and his twin brother Leo from telling her. A seer was a powerful tool for an alpha but especially one in control of a city.

Len was only present to hear two prophecies when he was younger, the first when Lisa was barely ten, him and Leo hiding where their father couldn’t see.

 _Fury begets fury and blood runs thin_  
The younger to take over for more than only him  
Father overshadowed for the shadow he once cast  
Your kingdom will be greater when your reign is in the past. 

Everything about Lewis toward his children changed after that. He was always a bastard, quick with his claws or a harsh word, but his abuses grew unbearable. Len hadn’t understood the prophecy at the time, but Lewis did—or so he thought.

One day Len discovered the truth when he killed his father and took over as alpha. Riddles always made more sense once you knew the punchline.

Lewis assumed Leo would kill him, since Len always fell in line, while Leo was the outspoken one against their criminal dealings.

“Why does everything have to be illegal? Why do we have to hurt people? Living in the shadows doesn’t mean we have to be the bad guys.”

So, Lewis sent Leo away to live with a sister city’s pack. But Len was the _younger_ of the twins, even if only by a few minutes. The killer was always meant to be him, left to protect Lisa and to deal with their father alone. It was self-fulfilling after that.

Lisa spoke the second prophecy as Len stood over their father's body. Nearly two decades later, he still wasn’t sure what it meant, but it had haunted him ever since.

“Here, boss. I can see Roy waiting on us,” Mick said as they pulled up to the Rogues Gallery tattoo parlor.

It was one of their many fronts for money laundering and having ears on the ground, but they had good artists too. The neighborhood wasn’t even the dicey kind but had a popular flower shop across the street and a bakery on the corner. Mick ran things most days, but Roy, one of the few other wolves in their pack, had a knack for the craft as well.

Roy waited for them inside to close up shop, ready with the week’s spoils. Len didn’t usually participate in pickups, but Halloween was a special night. Mick insisted on staying at his side as his most trusted enforcer and second in command—behind Lisa and Leo, though Leo didn’t live in Central. He’d stayed away even after their father died, working as a museum curator, preferring to not get involved in anything shady. Len respected that and never pushed, especially since Leo made a point to visit often.

Sliding out of the car, Len carried a natural grace that one might associate only with him being a wolf, but other shifters knew to be wary of that sort of calculated motion. He was a predator through and through, not one to be hunted, and he kept a keen eye on his surroundings with only a brief glance at the red moon sky.

Tonight was a _Blood_ Moon, during the most important negotiations of Len’s reign—working out a marriage arrangement with the alpha of Star City, Ray Terrill, to _Len_ himself, joining their packs together. It was the only option left that didn’t involve bloodshed considering how at odds Len’s father had been with the surrounding cities. Ray was the only one willing to believe Len could be different, despite years of proving otherwise. Central and Star City combined would be too powerful for opportunistic takeovers.

It was a good deal, even if it was one of the few times Len would bow to tradition. He only had tonight off from talks because he’d requested it. Ray was a good sort, a good alpha from what Len could tell, but no amount of alcohol could change that Len had no interest in marriage other than duty.

At least after the wedding and _consummation_ , they could run their cities separately, but Len was having a hard time getting that point across—as well as an allowance for other men and women in his bed—because Ray kept trying to _woo_ him.

“Roy,” he nodded when he and Mick entered the shop. “How’d that interview go tonight?”

The shop was narrow but deep inside with several stations for busy days and photos along the walls highlighting their artists. They were highly trafficked enough that there was a HELP WANTED sign in the window. They’d only take on another shifter, but Len liked to see who else might frequent their door.

“A shame, actually.” Roy hefted the bag of cash for Mick to inspect. “Best artist we’ve had come through. Has a record, just outta Blackgate in Gotham and looking for a fresh start. Right up our alley. If only he wasn’t human.”

“Allen, was it?”

“That’s him.”

“This his?” Len noted the portfolio on the counter.

“Yeah, he left a copy. I said I’d show the boss. Maybe we can find him something elsewhere, a good turn for an ex con and all.”

“How altruistic,” Len said, but his smirk faded as he began to peruse the work. It wasn't what he expected and seemed…familiar somehow.

“What can I say, boss? Kid had an infectious personality. I liked him.”

There were few actual tattoos, meaning this was a newbie, an artist who’d only recently taken up the trade of skin as his canvas. But what he did have was breathtaking, some photo realistic, some fantastical, some more traditional tattoos. The sketches that caught Len’s eye though were intricate collages that would make impressive sleeves or full body art, most rather grim too—death and macabre imagery of twisted bone and gore.

There was one…Len would swear it was like the corded flesh of one of his own worst scars.

Another…reminded him of his father’s open ribcage after he’d killed him.

But the last gave him the most pause—a beautiful woman with a third eye staring hauntingly back at him, the whites gone black while the irises seemed to glow…

“Nothing special about the guy other than his skills and sunny disposition. Wouldn’t guess he’d be so cheerful given the art, huh? Must have kept his head down in Blackgate.”

“He say what he was in for?”

“Falsifying evidence to get some scumbag put away for killing his son.”

“ _His_ son?”

“Nah, the scumbag’s son.”

“Was Scumbag guilty?”

“Allen sure thought so. Wife and daughter of the bastard did too. Used to send him care packages as a thanks for trying. So, like I said, pity he's human.”

“Yes…” Len said, closing the book. Involving a human in their work, even at a mostly legit business, would be too dangerous, but something nagged at him now. He often felt this way on Halloween, but it was more than that. “Anything amiss tonight?”

“Nope. Not a peep.”

“Mmm.”

“Boss? Want me to load up the cash?” Mick asked, hoisting the bag over his shoulder. “Maybe finish the other stops early? Still time to get that drink. Or ten.”

“Did you close up the back yet, Roy?” Len ignored Mick’s suggestion and moved around the counter.

“Not yet,” Roy said more slowly, catching onto his tone. “Why?”

“Been through there recently?”

“Something wrong?” Mick pressed.

“I don’t know yet. Just a feeling.” Len moved at a slow pace, eyes on the door. “Mick, load the car. Meet me in the alley. Roy, lock the door behind me, then the front, and go enjoy your evening.”

“You sure?” The hesitation was clear in Roy’s voice.

“You know I don’t like your ‘ _feelin’s_ ’,” Mick said.

“Just do it.”

Continuing at a brisk pace until he reached the back of the shop, Len stepped into the alley with a soft click of the door behind him.

 _Blood_. Not visible, but he could smell it. A lot of it. Impossible to detect inside the parlor, because it always carried a faint smell of blood due to the needle work, but outside, Len had no doubts. Those who knew about Lisa being a seer said he must have some of the gift too, because his hunches were never wrong.

A man sprinted toward him and was stopped cold when Len shot out an arm to catch him by the throat.

No, not a man. A vampire.

 _Shit_. 

The hiss and growl and snap of fangs made it difficult to hold the creature at bay, especially since he was strong— _incredibly_ strong. Len could barely contain him, which should not have been a challenge as an alpha against a newborn. The sire had to be powerful, hundreds of years old to create a fledgling this strong on his first night turned.

“A shame we couldn’t offer you that job, Mr. Allen,” Len said evenly, knowing who he was, he’d just never made it out of the neighborhood after his interview.

Allen— _Barry_ Allen—snapped again with a click of his fangs. A shame indeed. He had a handsome face beneath the raging hunger.

Shifter eyes glowed with power when they gave into their true forms, but a vampire's changed color entirely. They shone yellow when fed, amber when hungry, and red when feral.

Barry's eyes matched the moon above. What little control he might have had if he wasn’t a newborn was buried in the back of his mind with the overwhelming need to feed.

“The hell!?” Mick bellowed from the mouth of the alley, throwing back his shoulders and letting his fangs and claws extend, his skin darkening to a bluish grey, as the scruff on his face grew thicker with tuffs of extra hair as well as fur sprouting rapidly across his skin. He was ready to tear the vampire to pieces as soon as Len threw him his way, which was what Len planned to do…

When he caught the glow of the scarlet moon above Barry’s head.

Somewhere deep within the red of those eyes…was green. Len couldn’t see it, but he _knew_ , like a vision of the boy he'd been, beautiful and smiling and utterly enchanting.

With a howl, Len slammed Barry down into the pavement, bashing his head once, twice, three times before he stilled.

“The fuck’d ya do that for?” Mick growled. “Rip his damn head off already!”

“No,” Len said, the claws of the hand that had seized Barry the only part of him changed, and now that too shifted back. He bent beside Barry, whose fangs were still visible with his lips parted, but his eyes were closed, chest still since he no longer needed to breathe. “We’re bringing him back to the den. I have questions.”

“ _What?_ ” Mick balked, all towering force even as he shifted human, save the glow of his eyes that burned. “That’s a vampire, Lenny! A fuckin’ parasite!”

“I’m aware, and we are taking him back with us. Now pick him up.”

“Fat chance!”

“Mick, I am your—”

“Fuck you, big shot alpha! When you’re being an idiot, you’re just _Lenny_ , and you can’t go bringing some fanger home when negotiations with Terrill are heating up. Lisa’ll have your hide. _And_ mine. If you ever thought a Halloween was the night, this is the one. Kill the kid and be done with it.”

That was the easy answer, but if it was easy, why bother with a prophecy? When had a vampire even entered Len’s city? And what did it want? It couldn’t be a coincidence that Barry had been turned and left on Len’s doorstep.

Vampires were vermin, an infestation to be rid of if even one was discovered in pack territory. As they aged, they became far stronger than shifters, which was why they had to be eradicated before they spread, or they might take over. They were messy and foolish and too easily made feral, just like their wild newborns. Better to kill them on sight, always. Len couldn’t even remember the last time a vampire had been spotted in Central City.

But if the prophecy meant for Len to kill Barry, why have his art so entrancing? Why have his eyes cut through Len like bullets? Why have every part of Len’s instincts screaming at him that killing was not the answer? There were too many connecting piecing for him to take the easy route like his father would have in his place.

“Pick him up. If I’m right, Lisa will forgive me. And Mr. Terrill never needs to know.”

“Yeah,” Mick scoffed despite bending to do as ordered, “and if you’re wrong, we’re all fucked.”

 

XXXXX

 

They had a ticking clock from the tattoo parlor to the den, which was a renovated warehouse that on the surface looked abandoned, but inside was made up of high-end apartments and homey communal areas for Len’s pack. Tonight, it looked like a garish haunted house, it was so covered in kitsch. Len had tried protesting the décor earlier, but he'd been outvoted, which was only possible when Lisa was involved.

Barry could wake at any moment, but Len was counting on his newborn status to keep him out long enough to get him secured. Thankfully, Halloween was a busy night for everyone, either to keep tabs on the city’s revelers or to revel themselves, so only Hartley and Axel were present when Len and Mick hauled Barry inside through the back and headed for the basement. There was an old wine cellar down there Len had recently cleaned up. No windows and only one exit was paramount.

“Is someone wasted already?” Axel came over with a snicker.

Axel Walker was a werecat, tamer in personality compared to some of the panthers and other big cats in their pack but equally as temperamental at times. His boyfriend, Hartley Rathaway, was a Rat King, a rare type of wererat that could control vermin. Every rat or mouse that darkened their door was added to his horde. They shied from other shifters, but somehow, they all loved Axel.

“Have you lost your _mind_?” Hartley said when he joined Axel and caught sight of Barry’s fangs. “Please tell me that’s meant as a pinata for later and you’re about to disembowel it?”

“There will be no disemboweling,” Len said, while noting the fear in Axel's face once he realized what Hartley had already guessed.

“A fanger?!”

“His sire left him at the tattoo parlor. I intend to find out why. Keep going,” Len ordered Mick when he hesitated at the basement entrance. Once Mick continued with a grumble, Len turned back to the others. “Keep watch for Lisa. Keep watch for _anyone_ and let me know the second someone else comes home.”

“ _Boss_.” Hartley grabbed his arm. Being a rat didn’t mean he was meek or small of anything but stature. Hartley was one of Len's smartest, shrewdest, and most confrontational pack members. “The marriage negotiations, hello? Terrill and his second are still in the city. You meet with them again _tomorrow_. If they find out you kept a fanger instead of killing it…”

“I’ll look reckless and of poor judgement at best, I know.” Len looked down at Hartley's hand, and he promptly removed it.

“We need this merger. Gotham, Coast City, even Metropolis are months from attempting takeovers.”

“Which is exactly why I need to find out how a vampire got into my city, who it is, how powerful they are, and why they left me a _present_ on the night of my prophecy.”

Len's inner circle all knew about Lisa's prediction, but no one outside the pack even knew she was a seer, and marriage or no marriage, Len had no intention of sharing that information with Ray or his second, Oliver Queen.

Hartley and Axel exchanged worried glances but neither spoke at the reminder of what night it was and what that might mean.

“Let me know the second anyone else comes home,” Len said again and swiftly retreated into the basement.

He found Mick already having dumped Barry in the cellar. The door wasn’t as secure as Len would have liked but it should hold if anything happened.

“Finish the rounds then come straight back,” Len said as he reached for the locks.

“Lenny,” Mick stopped him, “you ain't goin' in there alone.”

“I’m getting rather tired of my _betas_ challenging me.” Len ripped his arm from Mick's grasp, and Mick had the sense to look cowed as Len's eyes flashed and his teeth grew sharp in warning. “Do as I say. I’m not going to be bested by a newborn, even one as strong as him. If there’s nothing of value to learn, I’ll kill him. Now, go back to the shop and clean up the alley. Bring back his portfolio too. Then finish the other stops before anyone gets suspicious.”

Without waiting for Mick to reply, Len threw back the locks to enter the cellar and let the door shut behind him. He’d been planning on replacing the door with a glass one eventually and was glad he hadn’t gotten that far.

The room was cool and spacious, with various shelves and racks along the walls, all currently empty. On the floor, in the center, lay the unconscious vampire.

The delicate fangs visible due to his slack mouth were almost cute considering the size Len was used to from his shifters. The young man's face really was handsome without any rage to mar it. Len would need to feed him if he wanted to talk. He needed to know everything about the vampire who’d turned Barry. Len was a supernatural _mobster_. Things like this didn’t just happen.

Was it Ray? Had he hired a vampire to upset the negotiations?

No. He wasn’t the backstabbing kind.

Queen, trying to undermine Ray? Also unlikely. He was loyal to his alpha, even if he didn’t care much for Len or Central City.

A third party then. But who? One of the other city's packs? This didn’t feel like them. But if a vampire was acting on its own, what did it want?

Lack of breath made it difficult to tell when Barry would awaken, so Len sat cross-legged a few feet from him to wait. Once he woke, Len would carefully feed him just enough to get him coherent, get what he needed, and if Barry proved a disappointment, killing him was still on the table.

Feeling his phone buzz, Len took it from his pocket and grimaced. _Ray_.

_I know negotiations are on hold, but if you’re free later this evening, perhaps we could get to know one another better, leave our seconds behind. Ollie can entertain himself._

This vampire business couldn't be Ray's doing. He was a romantic, hoping to find love where Len merely saw a political arrangement.

_Apologies. I need tonight to myself. Tomorrow, though, I would be happy to talk more casually over lunch without Mick and Oliver before we resume negotiations._

Len didn’t want to seem unreasonable after all, and if Ray got something he wanted, he might be more inclined to give into Len’s demands.

_Yes! Absolutely. Just tell me when and where._

Where indeed? What would be appropriate to seem amiable without feeding too much into Ray’s illusions about—

Len froze. Something was wrong. The room had been quiet ever since he entered, but it felt eerily silent suddenly, like the calm before a predator pounced.

Reaching out with his claws, Len discovered—nothing. Barry wasn’t there.

Barry wasn’t _anywhere_.

Len leapt to his feet and made to spin around, but a force rushed him before he could complete the act, slamming him sideways into the wall as two fangs pierced his neck. _Shit_ , he’d been sloppy, assuming he’d know once Barry roused, but the newborn was even more formidable than before.

No matter. Len was stronger and would hardly be affected…by…

A numbness overtook his body as though he were dozing, enjoying a lazy morning in bed with soft sheets all around and a nimble partner rolling on top of him.

He was being laid out gently on a bed, weight settling on his hips as his partner sucked firm and hot on his neck, making him shiver. He’d never felt such indescribable pleasure from someone giving him a hickey before, but he was already hard, pawing upward to hold that lithe body in place.

Who was this mystery man again? Len couldn’t remember, but he didn’t want the rivulets of contentment to stop. He started to rock up into the body above him, though he felt hazy, like he might fall back to sleep any moment. The last thing he wanted when he felt this good was to sleep.

The mouth on his neck latched on tighter, and Len shoved his hand down between them to feel himself—achingly hard now—and then the man, who was halfway following him and needed assistance. Len slid his hand into the other’s jeans and started stroking, feeling him thicken and grow hot at his touch.

Why was he wearing jeans in bed?

They were in a bed, weren’t they?

But it felt too firm, like a floor.

Had they passed out somewhere?

Where…where _was_ Len…?

Reality snapped back with a jolt.

 _Barry_. Len was being hypnotized by a vampire’s thrall. It shouldn’t have worked on him, especially not from a newborn. He had to stay focused before he lost too much blood.

“Stop…” he rasped, moving his hands to Barry’s chest and pushing.

It felt like the kid weighed a ton, totally immovable, and while Len had stopped giving into the passion between them, Barry reached down now and started stroking _him_ , even as he continued to drain him. The combination felt incredible.

And that euphoria was going to kill Len if he didn’t stop it.

“ _Barry_.” He pushed again, feeling tired and feeble. What _was_ this kid that he had so much power so young?

One thing that was the same was that newborns were reckless, untrained, and unable to use their saliva to close their victims’ wounds as an elder vampire might to avoid leaving bodies with bite marks. Len would heal where a human could not, but only if he stopped Barry in time.

Oh, but it felt amazing—Barry’s hand and the suction of his mouth. Len shivered again as he twisted his fingers in Barry’s shirt.

“Barry!” he growled and threw his momentum to the side until they rolled, dislodging Barry’s fangs at last and ending with Len on top. “ _Stop_.”

Barry looked dazed from the feeding, enamored with Len and the taste of him, and clearly aroused as he growled back more like a pleased purr and kept stroking Len, no longer concerned with feeding. Len couldn’t help how he moaned, noticing Barry’s _yellow_ eyes, sated finally but darkened with lust.

This was not the time for a dirty fuck on Len's basement floor, but his head felt like it was floating above him. Even as he began to heal, the loss of blood, the dizziness, what remaining blood he had heading swiftly south, trapped him in response to that hand, those eyes— _gold_ more than yellow—and the fangs with Len’s blood staining them had him ready to throw away every plan he’d ever had.

Surging down, Len caught Barry’s drunken, fanged smile in a kiss, only faintly tasting the tang of his own blood since Barry was absorbing every drop. His mouth felt divine, his _body_ felt divine, like this was fated, like they were meant to be right where they were, and Barry was still palming him.

The jeans and slacks definitely had to go.

Len fumbled to undo both clasps while maintaining their lip lock. His instincts stirred, fangs and claws lengthening, but no more than that, just on the edge of primal while still in control. The click of their teeth whenever they got too into it only made Len more desperate to get their pants down.

He felt the slight scratch of claws against their skin in his haste, but not enough to draw blood. Then he was urging Barry to coil his fingers around them both, pumping them together, slick and hot as Len canted his hips into the touch.

Barry broke from the kiss with a whine and lunged for Len’s neck again, making him flinch, ready to fight him off like before, but he didn’t so much as scrape his fangs, lapping at the wound instead. Relaxing once more, Len gave his own desperate whine at the attention.

Barry pulled his hand away and started rutting. Len wanted to roll his hips back and connect them more deeply or get on top and ride Barry _hard_ , but he was content enough to thrust into the wetness between them and end this quick, not having to care about being gentle like he would with a human.

If this encounter had happened when Barry _was_ human, an artist ex-con looking for a job, Len would have been hard-pressed not to hire him on the spot. Maybe he still would, if he didn’t kill Barry when this was over.

That thought sobered Len just as his release burst, and Barry bucked up harder to follow him. They panted, the aftermath leaving Len exhausted enough that the wolf retreated by the time he lifted up to look at Barry.

His eyes _were_ green, just like Len had envisioned, his face breathtaking with a dazed smile, with or without the fangs showing.

Len didn’t care how much Lisa yelled at him or what happened next. That had been worth it.

 

XXXXX

 

 _Wow_ , this guy was beautiful. His eyes almost glowed, they were so blue.

Had Barry gotten drunk after the interview? It was Halloween, and he thought the interview had gone well. Maybe he went for a drink after. He just couldn’t remember where or when he’d gone home with this stranger. He could only picture a dark figure pulling him into the alley and then…

Then he was here, with a hard cock in his hand and a warm body atop him.

Who was _bleeding_. Why was the man bleeding?

Barry tried to ask, but his words came out garbled. He felt the man shift and start to tuck himself away. Then he tucked _Barry_ away, which was slightly uncomfortable given the mess, but Barry felt so out of it still, he kept waiting for the hangover to hit.

When it didn’t, when he still felt amazing, he tried harder to focus. There was a wonderful taste in his mouth he couldn’t place, something he wanted more of as he licked the traces from his lips. He watched the man slowly grasp his wrists and pin them above his head. If the stranger hadn’t been bleeding, it would have been intensely hot.

“Would you like to try that again, Mr. Allen?” the man’s low, lilting voice asked, strained but exuding authority. Barry thought he meant the rough and messy sex, which yes, they could do that again anytime, but then he realized he probably meant the gibberish.

“Who…who are you…?” Barry slurred, pushing past the unfamiliar sensations coursing through him. He wasn’t drunk so what was this feeling? Had the man given him something? Was that why Barry felt so strange? Maybe he didn’t like this position anymore or his lost time. “Where am I? What’s going on? What happened to your neck?”

After scrutinizing Barry for several seconds, the man sat back and released his wrists. “Give it a minute, kid. It’ll come back to you.”

Barry opened his mouth to counter that, but as he looked again at the blood on the man’s neck and recalled the delightful taste on his lips, he suddenly remembered _everything_.

“Oh god…” Scrambling to get out from under the man, Barry rolled to the side and vomited blood all over the floor. “Oh _god_.”

“Stop that. You’re wasting it.”

“Why doesn’t it taste the way blood _should_?”

“Because you’re not human anymore.”

“Wh—?” Barry’s question was stolen as firm hands grasped his jacket and yanked him into a sitting position away from the splatter of blood.

“You’re a vampire. And I need to know who turned you.”

“Who…? _What?_ That’s insane.”

“I don’t have time for your existential crisis.” He released Barry to topple back to the floor and stood, starting to remove his jacket and shirt.

“What are you doing? I—"

“Sit still and pay attention. You’re a vampire now. And I’m a shifter, like many in this city. A werewolf, to be exact. And before you scoff at that…watch.”

He dropped his clothes to the floor—piece by piece—even more beautiful than Barry had realized, save the angry bite mark on his neck. He had scars, a multitude of them, but Barry had never found scars ugly.

Once the man was naked, his skin still stained from their rut on the floor, he said, “Stage one,” and his eyes glowed.

“Stage…two.” He took a step toward Barry, opening his mouth to show fangs growing from his canines, with shorter ones along the other upper teeth, and similarly along the bottom. Claws grew from his fingernails and his skin took on a dark grayish tint as silvery fur sprouted along his cheekbones and the edges of his body.

“Stage _three_ ,” he said with a rumble, rendering Barry paralyzed, because how could there be _more_?

The fur thickened across his body and the entire shape of him shifted, looking painful, yet he made no grimace or whimper as his spine and legs and _skull_ cracked, reforming into a large wolfish creature that the movies never got right. He was beautiful for how strange and deadly he looked.

Taking another step toward Barry, just as his transformation completed, it began again, faster now, shrinking him down but not losing any of the fur or wolfish visage. This time, when it was over, he might have been a normal timberwolf in the wild.

“Stage…four?” Barry said meekly.

The wolf padded closer to him, and Barry dared outstretch his hand to stroke the beast’s fur. It was far softer than a wild wolf would be.

“Wow…” Barry gasped, smiling as he pet the remarkable creature, even though he knew he should still be afraid.

The wolf soon retreated, and once he was far enough away, he shifted back into a man as easily as shedding another layer of clothing. While Barry stared on dumbly, he started to dress.

“I’m sure you have questions, but mine come first. Do you believe me now about what you are?”

The magic of the moment passed, and Barry tried to reconcile wanting to be sick from having drank someone’s blood, while not being able to deny how good it felt flowing through him and how amazing it had tasted.

He nodded.

“Good. Now, who turned you?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“A man? A woman—"

“Man. I think. No, _yes_. Definitely.” Barry righted himself and started to stand, causing the other man to…flinch? But why, when he was so impressive?

He finished putting on his clothes and stalked toward Barry with renewed confidence, making Barry back up for the other side of the… Were they in a wine cellar?

“What did he look like?”

“I-I… I don’t know! I never saw him clearly.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“I don’t think so.”

His blue gaze hardened.

“ _No_.”

“That is…unfortunate.” With a sigh, he looked at Barry for a long time, even more difficult to read than before. “You need to understand, your kind aren’t looked upon favorably in my circles. Anyone from my pack, any shifters at all, would kill you on site out in the streets.”

“What?” Barry tried to back up further, but he hit the wall. “Why? I’m not dangerous. I just…I won’t let anyone find out what I am.”

“It’s not that simple. We can smell you. You won’t be able to hide. But if you had something to offer me, some vital piece of information, I might be able to provide you protection.”

“If…?” Barry picked up on the important word choice. “And if I _can’t_?”

He gave Barry a hard, cold look.

“You’ll kill me… We had sex, and you’d just kill me, just like that?”

“It wasn’t exactly a mutual arrangement. You attacked me.”

“I…” Barry was going to be sick again, especially since he knew that was true. “I-I…”

“Relax, kid, I could have stopped you. I chose not to. Finishing what we started was more appealing.”

“Yet you’d still kill me?”

Barry thought the man—wolf, whoever he was—looked sympathetic, like he didn’t want to kill him, but Barry couldn’t be sure what his answer might have been because the door burst open.

“ _Lenny_.” A beautiful woman with eyes that glowed a similar blue came in with a snarl on her lovely face. “What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?”

 

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so tired, but I was determined to finish this chapter as I dive into NaNoWriMo. 
> 
> However, that means I will be focused more on writing this story than editing it to get my word count in each day going forward, and I will be waiting to post more chapters here until AFTER NaNo so I can go back and give the editing attention each chapter deserves. Though it also means once NaNo ends, I should be able to post on a set schedule. 
> 
> Stay tuned!

“Are you bleeding?” The woman—who had to be another werewolf because she _had_ to be the man’s sister—rushed to his side with perfectly painted fingernails alighting near the bite mark on his neck.

“Lisa—”

“You fed him? Are you insane? And _what_ is that smell?” She reared back, sniffing the air like a, well, _wolf_ , catching the scent of something unpleasant. “You fucked him? Seriously? When Ray is in the city right now, practically gagging for it before every negotiation? _Len_.” She smacked his arm.

Len. _Lenny_ , she’d said before.

Wait, was he Leonard Snart, the boss Roy at the tattoo shop had promised to show Barry's portfolio to?

“Please do not refer to our neighboring city’s alpha as ‘gagging for it’,” Len droned.

“Well, he is.” Lisa gave him another firm smack. “He’s also technically your fiancé.”

“What? You’re engaged?” Barry sputtered, feeling like an unwanted flea on the wall, especially when Lisa’s glare turned his direction—very much like her brother’s.

“It’s political,” Len said, as if being engaged was of no consequence when they’d just had sex, “not romantic. And how did you even know to come down here?” He returned to his sister.

“Oh please, like Axel can keep a secret.”

Len glowered. His exasperation was somewhat adorable dealing with an overbearing sister instead of threatening Barry’s life.

Right—his life. Because he was a vampire now, and these werewolves wanted to kill him if he wasn’t useful. He wondered if it was possible to make a break for the door since Lisa left it open…

“Don’t even think about it,” she growled, barring his exit with her eyes flashing like an animal’s caught in the light.

“I-I…”

“You are a threat to everyone here, to this entire neighborhood, and to the city. There are shifter _families_ depending on us, and my brother is stupid enough—”

“ _Lisa_ ,” Len bit out sharper, moving to intercept her as she started backing Barry into a corner.

Families? Barry was terrified for his own sake, but it was hard to not feel like the bad guy when Lisa and Len were defending families and afraid for their welfare with him around.

“Calm down and listen to me,” Len said, but as soon as his hand came down on her shoulder, she whipped his direction and…froze.

Like literally froze—face going slack, eyes springing wide with the blue blazing brighter and the whites going black.

“What—”

“ _Shush_ ,” Len hissed, and before Barry could process what was happening, Lisa was speaking, her voice a resonant echo like being caught in a wind tunnel.  

 _Mothers who saw and fathers who heightened_  
Three with the power, but one unenlightened  
All will suffer if two cannot triumph  
Together against him can you be defiant

“Is she okay?” Barry reached to help steady her since Len seemed frozen too, but he shouted at him to stop—

“Don’t!”

—all too late, because when Barry gripped Lisa’s arm like Len had her left, everything went white.

Then exploded into technicolor.

He saw Central City but darker and different, the streets drenched in blood and fear like out of a horror movie, only to change on a dime as if becoming covered in a fog of false bliss.

People walked the streets with eerie smiles in place of their recent terror, and at the center of it all was a single figure whose face Barry couldn't see, but he was there too, Barry himself, at the man's feet, staring up at him in adoration.

With Len beside him.

Barry gasped, the wine cellar reforming with a jolt. Yanking his arm from Lisa, he saw Len come to with a similar start, though he kept his hand on his sister, who swayed, then blinked awake with them.

“Who are you?” Len said to Barry like _he_ was the spectacle. “ _What_ are you?”

“Me? You’re a werewolf!” Barry said, stumbling away from them. “And she's…whatever she is!”

“A seer,” Len said calmly, calculating and still. “And you’re a vampire. But I’ve never experienced something like that no matter how many visions I’ve been present for. You saw what I saw, didn’t you?”

Barry shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t want to lie, but he didn’t know how to answer.

“I saw humans and shifters like mindless followers serving a vampire with a hidden face,” Len said.

A vampire? Of course. Barry knew somehow even though he hadn't seen fangs. “And us too,” he admitted quietly, “at his side, just as captivated, like zombies.”

“I wasn’t captivated by him,” Len said with a curious tilt of his head, observing Barry as though he could see right down to the bone, “I was captivated by you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Lisa wrenched her arm from her brother's hold, back to her senses but clearly shaken. “I don’t even remember my prophesies, and you both saw it?”

Prophesies, a seer? This night kept getting stranger, but Barry tried to focus on what he could grasp and to remember what Lisa had said while under her trance. It was connected to what he and Len saw, that much was obvious, but what did it all mean?

“When Barry fed from me, he was able to enthrall me,” Len said, which—what? What did _that_ mean?

“That’s impossible,” Lisa said. “Vampire thralls don’t work on shifters, especially not on an alpha.”

“I broke free eventually, but it still happened. For a few moments, I was entirely subservient.”

_Subservient?_

“ _That’s_ why you fucked him?”

Len cringed at the reminder but said, “Partially.”

“I…hypnotized you into sex?” Barry’s stomach churned with the threat of more blood spewing.

“Like I said, I could have stopped you once I snapped out of it. I chose not to.”

“Awesome…”

“Wait,” Lisa broke in, looking as nauseous as Barry felt. “He can enthrall shifters? And his sire will be able to control him…”

“ _What?_ ” Barry's eyes snapped to her.

“That’s how sires work,” she spat, like it was his fault he didn’t know these things already. “Your maker, the vampire who turned you, if he commands you to do something, it will be nearly impossible for you to refuse. You’re tied to his blood.”

Len had obviously come to the same conclusion, but it just made Barry feel more like he might start hyperventilating—though he didn’t seem to need to breathe anymore, which…weird.

“Is that how shifters work too?” he asked. “When you turn people?”

Len and Lisa shattered the tension by _laughing_ , though he hardly saw what was funny.

“This isn’t the movies, kid,” Len said. “We’re a race, not an infection. That’s reserved for your kind now. We can’t turn others. We simply are how we are born.”

“Oh.” Everything was starting to make sense, but that didn’t make Barry feel any better about his chances of survival. “So, I’m a parasite who was put here to control you, because then my sire can control both of us, and maybe, somehow, control everyone in the city?”

“So it would seem,” Len said, his mirth fading back to shrewd consideration, “though I’ve never heard of such a thing being possible. Even so, it would be foolish for him to try. He’d know how readily we’d want to kill you to prevent that. Even if he succeeded in enthralling me, the others in my pack would be more than enough to take out two vampires, and me as well if necessary.”

Lisa’s eyes burned Barry’s direction.

“Then what does he want?” Barry asked. “Why did he do this to me?”

“Oh, he wants my city,” Len said, “I’m sure of that. Maybe more than just one city. It’s the how he plans to accomplish it that worries me.”

“We know the answer to solve that problem,” Lisa growled—actually growled this time, and shit, there came Stage Two like Barry saw from Len, with fangs and claws and fur sprouting.

“Please…” He hit the wall from how he was cornered.

“We’re not killing him.” Len slid between them to hold his sister back.

“Lenny…”

“We are _not_ killing him.”

The triphammer of Barry’s heart eased at Len's authority. At least his heart still pumped, though it felt unnatural now and far too fast. “Thank you,” he said when Len turned to him.

“Don’t thank me yet. Your freedom comes at a price. I expect loyalty. I expect for you to do absolutely everything I ask of you. And in return, I will show you mercy to find out what is going on. But if you step out of line…” He moved closer, keeping Barry pinned.

There was something about the way he smelled, not just the lingering scent of sex but something indescribable, that kept Barry paralyzed. He’d blame it on the man being gorgeous, on his animal magnetism, but it was more than that.

“If you become a larger threat, if I ever fear that your maker has a chance to get a foothold in this city like we saw in that vision, I won’t hesitate to end you. Do you understand?”

Barry understood why Len was the alpha. Power radiated off him. “I understand. I’m still grateful. I get that this is bigger than me—”

“Do you?” Lisa cut him off, arms tight across her chest. “This is insane.”

“Barry isn’t a conscious part of this,” Len said. “He’s being used like his maker thinks he can use me.”

“And you have this insight how? Because you stuck your dick in crazy tonight?”

“We didn’t—”

Len held up a hand to silence Barry before he could finish that defense, and he wisely shut up. “What’s to stop this unknown enemy from siring someone else if we kill Barry? We still don’t know how he’s as powerful as he is. His sire might have ways to make any fledgling like him. What we need is information. Keeping Barry alive is the right call, but I need your backing if anyone questions me.”

She looked at him as though he’d grown another head—which at this point wouldn’t have surprised Barry. “How do we know he isn’t just playing Bambi?”

“Bambi? This guy basically killed me!” Barry exclaimed. “I had a chance to start over, and he ruined my life. His eyes…” He trailed as the image came to him.

“His eyes what? What color were they?” Len pressed.

“Yellow. I can picture them now.”

“Not feral or even hungry.” Len huffed as though not surprised. “Do you remember anything else?”

“No. I’m sorry, I—” Barry’s phone rang in his pocket, catching them all up short. “Um…”

“Who is that?” Len moved closer again, emanating that smell that almost made Barry dizzy. The room was large, but with two werewolves crowding him, he felt more like he was back in his five by five cell at Blackgate.

Pulling the phone slowly from his pocket, Barry checked the name.

 _Eobard_.

“It’s my uncle.”

“Then answer. We don’t want him thinking anything is out of sorts.”

“ _That_ would be out of sorts,” Barry countered. “I haven’t been talking to him. Trust me, he won’t be surprised if I don’t answer.”

“Shitty family too, huh?” Lisa asked snidely.

Barry’s stomach gurgled with guilt, because he owed Eobard an explanation for why he’d run away to Central City instead of going home to Gotham after Blackgate, but he didn’t know what to say. He definitely didn’t know what to say _now_.

“He’s a good man, it’s just complicated. He’s not really my uncle, but he raised me after my parents were killed.”

“Killed?” Len repeated, as the phone's ringing came to an abrupt end.

It was so common for the subject to come up when Barry met someone new, he didn’t even stutter. “Slaughtered more like. I was there, but I don’t remember anything. I blocked it all out. Why?” he said when the siblings shared a long look. “You don’t think this is connected?”

“Slaughtered parents is suspicious,” Len said. “Cause of death?”

“A knife? No one was ever sure, but there was a lot of blood.” Barry's eyes darted to the splatter on the floor, feeling another angry churn.

“Why won’t you talk to your uncle?”

“I…haven’t spoken to him since I went to Blackgate. I felt like I let him down.” How could he face Eobard after stooping to the level of a criminal, no matter how much his efforts had meant to that family?

“Falsifying evidence to get a child killer put away isn’t the evilest of deeds,” Len said, and Barry's attention whipped back to him.

“You heard… Does this mean Roy is also a shifter?” Barry's eyes widened. The man had seemed so normal.

“ _This_ is the artist Roy interviewed tonight?” Lisa laughed a little hysterically. “But back up a sec. You’re a cop?” she said like that was one more reason to hate him.

“CSI. And former. I couldn’t go back to my job in Gotham after what happened. They all called me crooked, wondered who’d paid me off. Only the family ever believed I’d done it because I…” He stopped. It didn’t matter anymore. “They never caught my parents’ killer. I didn’t want someone else to get away with murder when I could do something about it. But I was still wrong.”

“Again, gotta ask—better for a child killer to go free?” Len seemed intrigued by Barry's story given the glint in his eyes.

“I don’t know. I figured coming home to Central could be a new beginning. That I could make up for all the wrong I’d done by setting up a PI firm someday. Art's just a hobby, something I love, but the tattoo gig would have been temporary. I’ve always wanted my life to be about helping people.”

“Urg,” Lisa groaned. “Well, he certainly sings a pretty tune, but for the record, I still don’t like this.”

Turning to his sister, Len ushered her toward the door with a gentle touch. “Give me a minute alone with him, then I’ll be up.”

A dozen dissensions danced in her eyes, but she didn’t voice any, simply frowned at Barry and said, “I’ll be watching you,” before tossing her hair with a dramatic exit. When she shut the door, Barry felt again how suffocating it was to be caged.

Len continued to exude power and control as he moved back into Barry’s space. “Here’s the deal. Until I can be certain you’re trustworthy, you don’t leave this room.”

“What?” It _was_ a cell and worse than the one Barry had recently been freed from. “Please. Solitary confinement is torture.”

“It won’t be solitary. You won’t be alone for long, and I will properly outfit this room to be livable, you have my word.”

“What about a bathroom?”

Len fought a smirk. “Your body handles waste differently now, that won’t be necessary.”

“For real…?” That would be hard to get used to, though also convenient.

“As for a shower and other necessities, I will accompany you any time you leave. For now, stay put.” He spun about as dramatically as his sister had tossed her hair.

“Wait! Can you at least answer a few more questions about what I am?”

“Such as…?” Len turned back with some impatience.

“Like…what can kill me? A stake? Silver? Crosses?”

Again, that smirk. “None of the above will make much difference. A good clean shot to the heart and you’ll bleed out like anything else. Other locations, however, and you’ll heal better than any human or shifter ever could.”

“What if I get beheaded?”

“Try not to do that either.”

“Sunlight?”

“That is a problem if you don’t feed, so you will need to be careful. Stay fed, and you can still go for walks in the daytime, but the sun will never be your friend again. Sunglasses will be a must from now on, and you’ll likely never enjoy another day at the beach.”

“Never did before anyway,” Barry muttered. He was more of a night person and a homebody, but that didn’t mean he wanted to live in a werewolf’s basement. “How often will I need to feed?”

“At least once a week to start. Eventually, it will wean to monthly or even longer.”

“How—"

“We'll get to that. For now, I’ll take care of you.”

Barry believed him. He seemed like he must be a good leader, protective and understanding with his pack.

Len’s eyebrows raised expectantly for more, but when Barry didn’t say anything, he started for the door again.

“What if I kill someone?” Barry blurted.

Len paused, though this time, he didn’t turn around. “Then you kill someone, and we’ll deal with it.”

The clang of the door felt weightier when he left, and even though Barry trusted Len, never in his life had he felt so secluded, not even in prison.

He’d gotten out of Blackgate early because of good behavior and Eobard’s connections. Barry had been sentenced to five years, figured he’d have to do at least two, then somehow got out in six months. He knew Eobard was responsible more than having kept his head down or managing to get assigned a fairly kind if large and menacing cellmate named Dave. After that, how could he go home, knowing his uncle had done so much for him, when all Barry had done was throw that away, chasing dreams focused solely on his parents, and then falsifying evidence to put away a supposedly guilty party?

Barry knew the man was guilty, but did that make it right? He used to believe that a single man put away for a crime he didn’t commit was worse than any villain getting away with murder. It was easy to think that way until he was in the middle of it.

And now he was a vampire, with the threat of killing someone himself someday looming in the shadows.

How had he gone from having a great job interview to under-the-influence sex with a werewolf and sudden vampirism? That thought drew Barry’s attention back to the puddle of blood. The smell was strong, as if it was right next to him even though it was across the room. He could also smell the scent of sex Lisa had noticed—very potently.

If this was a normal night and Len was just some amazing catch Barry had picked up at a bar, even if it had been a one-night stand, it would have been amazing. Len was gorgeous and sexy and smelled liked everything Barry ever craved. It could have been a great meet-cute even—not that Barry had any friends to share it with.

Friends were difficult. Barry was too single-minded with his fixations and his hunches, too weird with his dreams and the art that sprang from them, and well, Uncle Eobard had always been distrusting of other people, which made Barry distrusting too. Even if he had a great one-night stand to talk about, there would be no one to tell.

Instead he was stuck with eternal night, an empty cell with a splatter of blood, and a werewolf jailer.

Not to mention that Barry’s portfolio, the real one he kept on him, not the copy he'd given Roy, wasn’t here. He must have lost it in the alley. For so long, those drawings had been his only escape...

Pressing his back to the wall, Barry slid to the floor and tried with every part of him not to cry.

 

XXXXX

 

Lisa stood complaining to Axel and Hartley when Len reached the main floor. Axel startled, eyes wide, proving he had indeed been the one to spill the beans, while Hartley merely rolled his eyes.

“Please tell me you at least told them the important parts of the situation?” Len said.

“That you're off your rocker?” Lisa shot back. “Yes.”

“We got it,” Hartley intervened before Len could let out a long-suffering sigh. “The fanger is tied to a bigger plot and we can’t kill him.”

“I hadn't mentioned yet that you also fucked him,” Lisa spat, because of course she did.

“ _What?_ ”

“Ew!”

Children, honestly.

Rising to his full height, Len stalked forward, giving no quarter or pause before he flashed his eyes in warning. “As your alpha, I expect more discretion with the rest of the pack. We'll tell them about Barry—and he's Barry, not a fanger—and about his sire and Lisa's prophecy, but the rest is need-to-know, which means they _do not need to know._ ”

Lisa huffed, but Hartley and Axel both nodded.  

“He will remain in the cellar unless accompanied by me. We do not need Mr. Terrill or Mr. Queen finding out about this. If Barry proves trustworthy, he may be more useful than just a tool against his sire’s plot, but we need to play this carefully.”

“What if he breaks out at night?” Axel asked with a shiver, afraid of the boogeyman, thinking Barry was more frightening than any of them.

“I will be staying with him to make sure that isn’t a problem.”

“Excuse me?” Lisa jumped back to confrontational. “That must have been one amazing fuck, or maybe you’re still enthralled.”

Len couldn’t blame her for her ire. She was always on edge after a prophesy, hating that she couldn’t remember anything and that she had no control over when one took her. They’d also been taught since birth to doubt the loyalties of everyone they met until proven otherwise, and vampires shouldn’t even be given that.

Barry was different. Everything about this was different. Len couldn’t explain it, but he knew he was following the right path to guarantee the city’s safety over its doom.

“I am completely in my right mind,” he said to his sister, relaxing his stance but speaking plainly, “which is why I am not going to leave him to his own devices.”

“You’re just going to have a vampire roommate in the middle of marriage negotiations?”

“Would you rather I give him his own room up here, let him run wild so other city’s packs can say I’m even more unhinged than they already think?”

“Because you're taking in a vampire whose master wants to overthrow you!” Lisa erupted. “Vampires are dangerous and out of control, and this one is going to end up biting you like any other.”

“He has bitten me,” Len didn’t try to hide the marks that he could feel Hartley and Axel’s eyes on, “and I’m still here. We need to know why Barry is so powerful. If we simply kill him and this other vampire can make more like him, we’ll be right back where we started. And there is...something else about him.”

“Obviously,” Lisa huffed again, “considering you fucked him on the basement floor.”

“You what?” Mick bellowed, announcing his presence with a boom as he entered. He must have zipped through running his errands, but he hadn’t ignored Len’s request—there were two portfolios in his hands.

Wait, two?

“Why two?” Len asked, ignoring Mick’s question.

He scowled but answered, “Copy he gave to Roy and an original I found in the alley.”

Len snatched the original from Mick’s hands more forcefully than intended, but the idea that there may be something in this version that he hadn’t seen before was too appealing. The drawings that had caught Len’s attention before were almost as entrancing as the man himself and might reveal more of this mystery.

“Good job, Mick,” Len said to cool his friend’s temper. “I’ll explain more as we work. For now, everyone is going to help me get the basement livable. We’re not monsters and we’re not going to treat him like one either, not unless he gives us a reason. But no one other than me enters that wine cellar, you’re simply helping me bring down amenities.”

“You’re acting like you got a new pet,” Mick said.

“The carrot, Mick, not the stick, if we want him to trust us and be useful. That’s what your prophecies have been telling me.” Len turned to Lisa, hoping she’d come to understand. “I’ll show you. I’ll write it down like I always do, and you’ll see, but I need you to trust me.” He meant those words for all of them, but he focused on Lisa as he said it.

Having a reputation of always being right about his hunches was one of his strongest assets, ensuring loyalties where another alpha might have faltered. Axel and Hartley didn’t voice other dissensions, skeptical as they may have been about having a vampire under their roof. Mick didn’t speak out again either.

Lisa appeared as though she might say more, standoffish, resistant, but only Len saw the flicker of indecision in her eyes that showed she was afraid.

She never said it, but she blamed herself for Leo being sent away, solidifying his love for a life outside the pack and keeping them apart. At least leading Len to kill their father was something she was proud of, but every other prophesy filled her with guilt, like she caused the outcome instead of simply predicting it.

Before anyone else could notice how she'd faltered, she steeled herself and said, “Fine. Guess we better find a stray bed to drag down there and supplies to clean up that blood. Let’s get this taken care of before anyone else comes home.”

She spun on her heels, and Axel and Hartley scrambled to follow her. Len held the true portfolio to his chest, only to nearly stumble when Mick pushed the copied version into his arms too.

“Another prophesy?” he said before following Lisa too. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

 

XXXXX

 

Len was serious, he didn’t want any of the others going into the cellar and meeting Barry until he’d finished vetting him and felt 100% certain about his belief in him. He was _almost_ certain, but almost wasn’t good enough.

So, while the others helped him bring down everything he’d requested for Barry’s room, he alone cleaned the blood, brought in the bed, and setup the other items he thought Barry might want.

A small desk and tools for drawing. Books for the shelves, but no internet, which meant he also confiscated Barry’s phone. That made Barry stiffen and sigh, but the joy on his face when Len handed him his portfolios made up for it, spreading a rare warmth through Len’s chest at the sight.

Barry still stared in incredulity when Len finished making the bed. “You really think I’m so dangerous that I have to sleep down here?”

“All vampires are dangerous. I’m going to keep an eye on you until I can be sure you’re in control, which means I will be staying with you.”

Barry clutched his portfolios to him the same way Len had, like they were grounding even when he couldn’t see the pictures.

Len had looked through the original, but only one drawing was new compared to the copy. It was more surreal or like an impressionist painting than Barry’s other works, yet Len would swear he could see something recognizable in the dark swirls of black and red and gold.

Like a figure with yellow eyes.

“You’re sleeping down here too?" Barry said. "In the same _bed_?”

“If you’re worried about your innocence,” Len smirked, “you can relax, I have no intention of having a repeat performance. I’ll simply sleep beside you to ensure you don’t do anything stupid.”

Barry relaxed, though Len could see a touch of disappointment at the edges of his expression. He felt it too, because there was an indescribable pull toward Barry he’d never experienced with anyone else. It worried him that it might be because of the thrall or Barry’s maker’s plans, but it didn’t feel the same, not exactly.

Under Barry’s control, Len had felt like he was floating, dreamlike, clearly under the influence and unnaturally giddy. Now, it was things he would normally desire in a man that caught his attention. The lovely length of his neck and legs. The sparkle in his eyes and sweetness to his mouth. The slender body with subtle but powerful muscle beneath. 

Len would have wanted Barry physically regardless of extenuating circumstances, but he was also drawn to the art and the spirit in the depth beyond Barry’s face and figure.

“How long do I have to live like this?” Barry asked.

“Only until I know you can be trusted.”

“I can’t believe this is my homecoming.” He slouched into the chair at the desk and set his portfolios atop it, not as though he wanted to fight Len, but coming to terms with the necessity. “I just want to help people, and everything I do makes things worse.”

“You didn’t choose to be a vampire, it was forced on you. That makes this your sire’s fault, not yours.”

It wasn’t late by normal standards, maybe for a human, but not on Halloween. Still, Len felt fatigued and saw the same exhaustion in Barry. He didn’t want to see any of the rest of his pack tonight anyway. He’d told Lisa and the others to keep things quiet, that he would explain to everyone else in the morning before he had his meeting with Ray. No one else needed to know that a vampire slept beneath their feet tonight—assuming Axel could keep quiet for a few hours.

Len sat on the edge of the bed. “Focus on your goals, not what you can’t change. If you really mean what you say, that you want to help people, then you can be of help right here.”

“How?” Barry blinked at him. “No offense, but it sounds like you’re some kind of…crime boss.”

“More or less.” Len chuckled. “But not even that is black and white. I have an obligation to my people just like any city’s…mayor, let’s say. Think of me as an alpha like that. In fact, the actual mayor of Central City and I are comrades in arms as such to keep this city running. He’s human and not nearly as crooked as most. You can help a lot of people by helping me make sure this sire of yours doesn’t find a way to get what he wants.”

Barry appeared to mull that over, likely bursting with more questions, but he didn’t voice them yet, simply said, “Okay.”

“In the meantime, if you want that job at the tattoo parlor, once I know you can control yourself and that my…betrothed is no longer walking the streets to run into you, it’s yours. It’s more than just the art, we use that place for information. It’ll give us an opportunity to introduce you to the shifters of this city under controlled circumstances. You’d be of use there, especially if you have designs on becoming a PI eventually.”

A sparkle of hope lit up Barry’s eyes, making him look entirely human. Not that he looked like a vampire without his eyes changed or his fangs out, but the ones Len had met in the past always had this sense about them that gave them away even before he smelled them, like a creeping darkness overpowered their best efforts to blend in.

Barry was filled with light.

“You think I could still have that?” he said.

“We’ll see, won't we? Now, while you no longer need as much sleep, you do still need it. Rest, let your body adjust. I’ll have some errands to run in the morning, but if you play nice, you won’t have to stay down here for long. I assume you have an apartment in town or hotel you’re staying at?”

“Hotel, yeah. I was going to look for apartments after I got a job.”

“Aren’t you lucky then that you’ll no longer need to pay rent? If there’s time tomorrow, we can go there to clean out your things. Until then, you’re welcome to use my clothes.” He gestured to the duffle he’d packed with essentials—sleep pants, shirts, jeans, underwear.

Len wasted no time rising from the bed then to undress and put his own sleep clothes on. Barry had very recently fed, but it still amused Len to see the blood rush to his cheeks, painting him scarlet.

They’d already slept together, and Barry had seen Len naked when he showed him his various forms, but still, he politely turned his head while digging through the duffle for his own change of clothes.

A short while later, Len didn’t mean to infringe on Barry’s privacy, but it wasn’t the largest of rooms, so once he’d finished changing, he couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder to see Barry only half done, bare-chested and inhaling the scent of one of Len’s long-sleeved navy shirts like it was vampire catnip. His eyes even fluttered, and Len had to smirk, especially when Barry noticed him watching and hurried to put the shirt on.

The light was by the door, but they could both see well in the dark, even pitch black like it was when Len snuffed the light out. He heard Barry about to protest, since he hadn’t gotten into bed yet, but once he looked around and realized how easily he could find his way, he held his tongue. They crawled under the covers, and Len wondered if he was out of his mind.

“Why do you trust me?” Barry asked as if to press the issue. “If all you’ve ever known was that vampires are awful, why give me the benefit of the doubt?”

“I’m still being cautious,” Len reminded him, though being in bed with a vampire might say otherwise.

“Any other situation, though, you would have killed a vampire like me.”

“True. Years ago, my sister had another prophesy that centered around me, warning me of an important Halloween night when I’d have to make a decision. I think that was tonight, finally. Killing or sparing you will lead to the ruin or salvation of this city.”

Barry was quiet for a while. “How do you know which is which?” he eventually asked, the same question Len’s pack had pushed the whole time they were dragging things into the basement. “How do you know sparing me is the right decision?”

“I don’t. It’s just a feeling. But my feelings are never wrong.”

The bed creaked as Barry shifted onto his side to face Len, and Len turned his head to look at him. He was lovely in the dark, ivory face and bright green eyes looking back at Len with curious confidence. “Me too. I mean, before now, one of the reasons I was always so good at being a CSI, was that even if I had a crazy hunch no one else believed, once the evidence came through, I was always right. Always. The only time there wasn’t enough evidence to prove it was with the Dunkirk case.”

“Your child killer,” Len concluded. “That’s why you falsified evidence, because you believed you had to be right this time too.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe you’re a seer. There are ways we can check that.”

“I don’t think so.” Barry smiled softly and glanced down at the sheets. “Nothing like what happened with Lisa has ever happened to me. It’s just feelings, just hunches, and maybe a weird dream or two that inspires my drawings.”

“Oh?” Len was the same, though he didn’t create art from it, the ideas stayed in his mind from his eidetic memory like a perfect picture. Maybe, like him, there was seer blood in Barry’s family even if he wasn’t one himself. “Whatever the answers, Barry, while I don’t believe fate chooses for us, I do believe it exists. There is purpose behind our meeting and something worth saving in you.”

Barry’s eyes flicked up with a shimmer of yellow—overcome with emotion he couldn’t control, yet that didn’t worry Len, because he felt a stir of emotion too.

Maybe he was insane, but he didn’t think he was wrong about Barry any more than he’d been wrong about anything else.

“Thank you again,” Barry said in all seriousness, “for, um…not killing me.”

“I still might, you realize,” Len said, since he didn’t believe in sugar coating the truth.

Barry nodded without protest and rolled onto his back again. They lay there, side by side, until Barry suddenly snorted.

“Something funny?”

“Uh…you know _Princess Bride_? I was thinking of that Dread Pirate Roberts part. ‘Good night. Good work. Sleep well. I'll most likely kill you in the morning’.” He giggled like he couldn’t think of any better response to tonight’s absurdity.

Len laughed too. Barry was…something all right. Something special. “I promise, as long as I never find reason otherwise, it will never come to that.”

 

XXXXX

 

Barry was not the easy sleeper type. His mind worked too frantically and all the time. His parents used to say it was like he had to go into each individual room in his mind, shutting off all the lights one by one before he could sleep, instead of some people who could conk out by throwing a single switch.

That was Len, apparently, because he was out in moments after they stopped talking. What surprised Barry was that it didn’t take much longer for him to drift off too.

It was cold tonight, he thought, pulling his jacket tighter around him. Only…it wasn’t his jacket, was it? It was a long black trench coat that didn’t seem his style at all. He didn’t recognize the streets he was walking either, though he knew he was still in Central City. These streets felt more like Gotham, always a little darker there, the type of city poets talked about like they were ever in mourning, like the sun never shone come daytime.

Central wasn’t supposed to be like that. It was brighter, happier, a big city, sure, but one where parents still believed they could raise their children in good school and safe neighborhoods.

Unlike this one.

Barry turned another corner, down another dark, empty street he didn’t know and felt as if every shadow was about to snatch him up and eat him.

“ _Barry_ …” a voice called from behind him, and he spun around to see—

Nothing.

“Hello?” Barry called, turning in a slow circle to determine where the voice had come from.

_“Don’t worry, Barry. You are right on track. Right where you should be.”_

“Sorry?” Barry turned again, because he couldn’t see anyone, but the voice was familiar even though he couldn’t place it. It sounded like it was vibrating, distorted and affected too much to be clear.

_“Trust in Leonard, Barry, you know you can, and let him trust in you. He is very alluring, isn't he? Everything you’ve ever desired.”_

“I…” Barry felt a rush of embarrassment, but he couldn’t deny that. “Yes,” he said in a quiet whisper.

_“Then don't fight it. Keep doing exactly as you are.”_

“Okay…” Barry said, letting the truth flow through him like a comforting embrace, no longer caring about the voice’s origin or the dark surrounding him.

_“Good boy, Barry,”_ the voice said, and then, Barry saw him, saw…something moving toward him out of the nearest alleyway, shadowy and indistinct but with a flash of bright.

Yellow.

Eyes.

_“Welcome home.”_

Barry gulped in air he no longer needed to breathe as he shot up in bed, awake—and still in the wine cellar.

He dropped back onto the mattress and tried to dismiss the terrible dream. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, it hadn’t been anything all that menacing, yet he still felt _invaded_ , like that tingly feeling at the back of your neck when someone’s watching you. All because…

Because…

What had he been dreaming about again? He couldn’t remember. He always remembered his dreams, but this one was slipping away. He’d wanted to tell Len about it.

 _Len_ , Barry thought with sudden remembrance and rolled toward the _empty_ space beside him. Len was gone, but there was a note on his pillow.

_Guess I didn’t kill you in the morning. Be back soon. -L_

Barry smiled. The one good thing about this messed up situation was Len, and he’d slept through him getting up and leaving. With a sigh, Barry removed the note from the pillow and rolled onto Len’s side of the bed to take in his intoxicating scent, much stronger where he’d slept than in the borrowed, washed sleep clothes.

Barry should be freaking out about now, but even locked in a cellar like the same prisoner he’d been for six long months, he felt comforted being able to wrap himself in Len’s scent, like he was exactly where he should be.

 

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated. :-)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, my hand slipped?
> 
> Hey, if NaNo goes well enough that I can edit AND still get my daily word count in, I will continue to post, and lucky you, this one came out of me fairly easily. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for the comments so far!

“Len? Are you with me?”

Len startled out of his thoughts. He hadn’t meant to drift off, but as engaging as Ray Terrill could be—he truly was a good man, a good alpha, handsome and capable—Len’s mind wasn’t on their lunch date at all.

He’d gotten up early to handle damage control with the rest of the pack and to ensure no one got antsy about the new normal of a vampire living in the basement.

Axel had managed to keep quiet this time, though Len came upon Sam and Rosa needling him for info at the breakfast table since everyone could always tell when he was hiding something.

Len's inner circle was made up of a clean dozen, including four wolves with himself, Lisa, Mick, and Roy, four varying types of cats with Axel as the equivalent of a housecat, Shawna a cheetah, Mark a tiger, and Amaya a panther, then Hartley the Rat King, Sam and Rosa the lizard people, and finally Nate, who was, well, human.

But he was Amaya’s human, and Mick tolerated him, which was rare, so he got to stay. Everyone who wanted a place in Len's city got to stay—as long as they followed the rules.

No killing innocents. No stealing from one another. No intolerance of other races. Avoiding stereotypes and petty bickering was part of why Len had pushed for a mixed pack.

“Come on, _pussycat_ ,” Rosa purred over Axel's shoulder, while her husband hovered over the other.

“What juicy secret are you hiding this time?” he mimicked.

That didn't mean the snakes in their midst couldn't be cold-blooded on occasion.

“Enough,” Len ordered before Axel’s resolved could falter. “I'm calling a pack meeting.”

Getting everyone in the same room on any given day was a challenge, but Len spread the word that this was mandatory. Having one large shared kitchen was part of the communal environment he tried to nurture in his inner circle, but they really were a family when they were all together, complete with childish teasing and ridiculous competitions.

Mark kept insisting that tigers could be as fast as cheetahs if they tried and goaded Shawna constantly for a race, when really he was too chicken to ask her out. She'd been playing dumb to get him to man up, but she was close to taking pity on him and asking him out herself.

“What's up, Boss?” Nate asked, leaning against the table with Amaya in a chair beside him, holding him about the waist.

When had almost the entire pack paired off, Len wondered? If Mick and Roy started dating, he was done—or gods forbid one of them tried to date Lisa.

“We have a situation.”

Len considered himself lucky that Lisa had cooled off enough during the night not to voice any of her previous protests. He knew she'd spent much of the night looking over the new prophecy he'd written out for her, hoping she could decipher it. If that meant she was more inclined to listen, he'd take it.

He couldn't say that the rest of the pack was happy with the revelation of their new boarder, but Len having survived a night sleeping beside the vampire hushed any immediate concerns.

“Would you like me to check on him?” Amaya asked, but Len dismissed the offer. She was their shaman, their supernatural doctor. He'd likely need her eventually given they were dealing with a newborn, but not yet.

“Soon. I don't want anyone getting close until I give the okay.”

“What's he like?” Nate asked, less filled with trepidation than the others since he had the least experience.

“I liked him,” Roy said. “Sweet kid, maybe a little excitable and dorky, so you'll get along fine, Heywood.”

Nate scowled, but it was all good natured.

Roy filled the others in on the ex-con portion of the story as well as why Barry had ended up at Blackgate. “Good artist too. Course that was before he became a blood-sucker.”

Len knew they wouldn't simply overlook that point.

“What about the negotiations with Terrill?” Shawna asked.

“Don't worry,” Len assured them. “I have everything under control.”

He hoped.

“Apologies,” he said with Ray now, reaching to take a sip of his water. When Ray had mentioned a touristy spot, Len had politely suggested something more intimate. This particular bistro was one of his favorites, small but cozy with divine food, yet Len had barely touched his meal. He was making a terrible impression, allowing himself to be distracted. “Long night.”

“Oh? You said you needed time alone last night. Halloween rituals to attend to or just a pack party?” Ray smiled. He never stopped trying to win Len over. Not that he was bad at it, for all his occasional fumbling, but Len just never felt that elusive spark between them, not like his pack mates and their easy coupling.

It shouldn't be necessary, this was a marriage of convenience and political stability, not love. Len never expected to find love, but Ray did, he craved it openly and wanted them to be more. It wounded Len not to be able to give him that, because while he could be civil and provide pretty lies, he couldn't give his heart completely, not to someone who didn’t make his pulse race.

Ray was safe. Ray was easy. Len craved a challenge.

They had the lightly graying shorn hair in common at least. Barry was significantly younger. Not that Len needed to be thinking about Barry right now.

“Nothing so exciting,” Len said with a smile of his own. “Just a touch fried lately. I went to bed early.” That wasn't technically a lie. “I wanted to be sure I could give you my full attention, yet here I go, getting distracted and ruining our meal.”

“Oh no, not at all. Is there anything I can help with to ease your mind? Or am I the problem?” He grinned wider, gently teasing and maybe only mildly serious.  

“Negotiations are forefront on my mind, but you are never a problem. Mr. _Queen_ , on the other hand…”

Ray chuckled. “Oliver is a bit overprotective, I'll admit, but it's his job. Mick isn't exactly cuddly around me. They just want to be sure this ends with mutual benefit.”

“With Mick, yes. But I think Oliver wants to be sure I don't take advantage of your good nature.”

There were some things Barry and Ray had in common, like the bashful glance to the side. “Some types of taking advantage are okay.” Ray was sweet, which wasn't a typical trait in an alpha, though that in no way meant he was weak or lacking confidence.

“Why, Mr. Terrill.” Len propped his chin on folded hands atop the table. “And all this time, I thought you were playing hard to get.”

“I just mean…” Ray’s cheeks flushed like Barry's too, “we're allowed to be a little selfish, even as alphas.”

“Does that mean you've considered my requests?”

“We're not supposed to be negotiating right now,” Ray dodged the question. “I wanted to learn more about you.”

“Such as?”

“You know...hobbies, dreams, your favorite ice cream flavor.”

A date. A courtship more like.

Len dropped his hands and sat back. Ray had beautiful blue eyes, but looking into them, he kept wishing they were green. “Hobbies include reading, cooking, and strategizing, even if that means a simple game of cards. Dreams are only about making sure my life remains worthwhile, and that those who rely on me are always safe, while my city thrives. And…mint chocolate chip or cinnamon. But never together.”

Ray laughed, and Len could tell he was adequately charmed. Normally, if Len was seducing someone for his own gain, it didn’t bother him, because it was fleeting, and never wholly one-sided. The seduction had benefits for both parties. This time, however, knowing the outcome would be long-term, Len felt…guilty, and guilt wasn’t something he abided.

A buzz brought Len's attention to his cell phone. Normally he'd ignore it while with Ray, but times were changing, and he couldn't risk being caught off guard.

The message was from Hartley.

_Axel is tearing his hair out. Considering your vampire pet was fed last night, can I at least introduce them?_

Len tried not to growl. Axel was curious at best, neurotic and destructive at worst. He didn't need him losing his cool around outsiders and giving away Barry's existence before the time was right. Besides, Barry had been alone all morning. He deserved company, and Len had to start pushing boundaries somewhere.

_Fine. But only you two and be cautious._

“I’d also love to know what has you so distracted today,” Ray said.

“Sorry.” Len put his phone away. “Pack business but nothing pressing. I shouldn't—"

“It's fine. I like that you're so attentive with them. It's part of why I agreed to all this, you know. Actions prove the kind of person someone is more than their past or lineage. You're a good man, Leonard. I just want to get to know the parts you tend to hide.”

That was every part, Ray just didn't know it yet.

“You need to understand something if you really want to know me,” Len said, since empty charisma wasn’t getting him anywhere. “Whatever you may think of me, I'm still a criminal and a liar.”

The smile on Ray's face twitched. “For the greater good, like all alphas in major cities. Not everything I have my hands in is legal either. You’re more Robin Hood than villain.” He tried to reach for Len’s hand atop the table, and that was the last straw. 

Len pulled his hands into his lap. “While the end goals are always for my pack, make no mistake that I am a villain. I don’t compromise myself for anyone. I won't.”

“Not even…for a mate?”

“If it means becoming someone I’m not, then no.”

“I’m not about to shame you for practices I might disagree with,” Ray squirmed, “if that’s what—"

“I’m not going to love you,” Len bit out, causing Ray to flinch. He'd tried so hard not to snap or be cruel, but even he had limits. “If you want love, you’ll need to find it elsewhere, just like I expect compensation in that direction as well.”

Guilt churned again from Ray's look of nausea. “You want me to agree to let you sleep with whoever you want after we’re married.”

“It’s not as though we’ll be living under the same roof.”

“We could. I thought we might alternate between cities and…that’s not what you want.” There, finally, clanged the reality of the situation. “I want to help your pack. I believe you’re a good man. But I’m not as good of a man as you think, because I’m selfish too. And I want something for me. I want someone who will be devoted to me. I thought…maybe… Couldn’t we even try?” He brightened with the last shred of hope in him that Len was about to crush.

“You’ll just be setting yourself up for disappointment.”

Ray was nearly the same age as Len, just shy of forty, but he had a youthfulness about him that Len had admired since they met. It was the joy he took in simple things that proved to Len he wouldn’t betray him or try to take over his city with the merging of their packs.

Now, Len saw that bright optimism crack with the fissured being made in Ray’s heart.

“You know, I’ll never understand how someone so beautiful can be so cold,” he said, and this time when he glanced away, it was because he couldn’t stand to look at Len. “I need to think about this. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to continue negotiations.” He started to push his chair back.  

“Ray…”

“By the way, for me it's board games and photography. The only dream I've ever had is quickly solidifying into ‘never going to happen’. Oh, and Neapolitan, but there's always extra strawberry left over.” He smiled bitterly as his eyes finally flicked up again to meet Len’s. “I won’t leave you high and dry, Leonard, but what you want this to be, I don't know if I can give you that.”

“You would have the same freedoms, take to bed whoever you want.”

“I'm not like that. I'm sorry. I'll contact you soon.” This time, he completed the act, though not without leaving cash for the meal, about perfect to cover his food and half the tip, not leaving it all to Len or covering everything, like the perfect neutral line in the sand.

 _Fuck_. Len had always feared it would only be a matter of time before this dissolved, but now he may have finally screwed things up for good.

Lisa was going to kill him.

 

XXXXX

 

The note from Len was cute, but it was strange being able to read it so well in the dark. Once Barry knew he was alone, he'd wanted the light on again.

Which was when his experiments began.

With the singular thought of light in mind, Barry pulled back the covers and—

The room illuminated—because he was already at the door and had flipped the switch! How had he moved so fast?

Barry looked to the bed and thought only of being back under the covers.

A moment later, he _was_ , with a rush of wind and exhilaration coursing through him.

“Holy _shit_.” Being a vampire made him some sort of speedster.

After that, Barry spent hours testing what he could do before he even thought about making himself presentable for the day.

There was his speed, able to zip around the room like lightning and never feel a twinge of fatigue.

There was strength, enough that when he focused his attention, he was able to lift the bed with one hand, and whooped so joyfully at his success, he nearly dropped it with a clatter.

Smell he’d already recognized last night, but it was powerful how much he could detect and how centered he could be on one thing. Len had cleaned the blood last night, but there was still the faint scent of it—and the sex. And of _Len_ from the sheets and the clothes Barry wore.

He assumed that no matter how good his hearing might be, he was in the basement, so he wouldn’t be able to pick up much, but he _could_. He could hear voices upstairs. Not the words so much as murmurs, but he could still hear them. Someone was listening to music, and there was traffic going by outside.

The scientist in Barry from years as a CSI was positively giddy. The time alone also allowed him to bask in how good he _felt_ —invigorated and bursting with energy that made him wish he could leave his small room and just _run._

Eventually, once he proved himself to Len, he’d be able to do that again, even if it wasn’t in the sunlight.

Finally, he wanted to test his durability, but he didn’t exactly have a weapon to make a cut on his palm, and he didn’t want to push his luck by breaking any bones.

Then he remembered he _was_ a weapon. He had fangs. He just needed to learn how to release them and fixated on how to make that happen. Once he felt them extend, small but sharp at his canines, he lifted his hand to his mouth and bit along the outside of his thumb and wrist. It stung, but not as much as it should have or would have when he was human.

When he pulled back to watch, he wasn’t prepared for how quickly the damage healed. It took seconds, until all that was left was a smear of blood.

A knock at the door startled him. Was Len back? But why would he knock? Maybe he was being polite, giving Barry a moment to collect himself in case he wasn’t dressed.

“I’m decent!”

The door opened, and Barry backed up, steeling himself to see Len again, which he’d been looking forward to ever since he woke up in an empty bed.

Instead, a slight man with glasses entered, wearing a frown and eyeing Barry as though thoroughly unimpressed.

“ _Decent_ ,” he sneered as he entered, leaving the door open for another man to enter behind him, this one taller and thinner, but also hunched low like he expected a fight and carrying a—holy shit, was that a machete?!

“Decent? I’ll be the judge of that, fanger!” the armed one shouted.

Barry would have feared Len had sent them in to kill him if he wasn’t certain by the man’s stance that the machete was only for protection. Were they really that frightened of him?

“Fanger?” he said after mulling the word over, keeping his distance to put their minds at ease, and to stay away from that blade. “Is that a vampire slur? Seriously?”

“Forgive him, he’s just scared,” the one in glasses said, though he didn’t sound like apologies were his forte. “Boss gave us permission to say hello so Axel gets over his fears, but he also told us not to call you _fanger_.” He finished the phrase pointedly at his companion, who shrugged but didn’t lower his weapon. Neither looked like shifters, but then Len didn’t either until he changed.

“Well, I’m Barry. Barry Allen. It's nice to meet you.”

“Hartley,” Glasses said, “and Axel.”

“Hi.” Barry waved stupidly, noting that the pair wasn't moving closer, keeping a good ten feet between them. “I’m not scary. I mean, I don’t want to be. See.” He spread his arms to encompass his very normal self, albeit in someone’s else's clothes. “Do I look scary?”

Axel stared at Barry's _mouth_.

Oh right!

“Sorry!” Barry's hands flew up to cover his fangs. “I was just testing my healing and—"

“Basil, Dr. Dawson, get back here!” Hartley cried, and it was only then that Barry noticed two rats scurrying toward him from the open door.

Hartley hadn’t spoken with authority so much as panic, maybe even fear, though he’d been trying very hard not to show that he felt like Axel.

The rats continued toward Barry, lovely creatures really, clean and well cared for, so he didn’t flinch when they climbed up his legs and perched one each atop his shoulders.

“Hi there,” Barry said cautiously, letting his hands drop from his mouth. “Len didn’t get to tell me much about the pack. Are you like a rat person,” he glanced at Hartley, “and they listen to you? Wait, are _they_ part of the pack too?” Suddenly, he wondered if he had two normal adults on his shoulders who just happened to turn into rats.

“I'm a Rat King,” Hartley said, staring in open amazement at Barry now, while Axel lowered the machete. “A wererat, but a special kind. Not all of us can commune with normal rats and mice. Mine only listen to me, and outside of me, they only like Axel. And you, apparently...”

“Yeah?” Barry returned to the rats. His fangs were still out, he could feel them, but he smiled nonetheless. “I’ve always liked rats, maybe that’s why. I loved taking care of the ones we had in school as class pets. That’s why I couldn’t do the dissection in middle school. Got my first F for it, but I didn’t care. I dealt with a lot of rats in my college courses too, but only if they were treated humanely. So,” he addressed his furry friends directly, “are you two named after The Great Mouse Detective?”

They squeaked back at him, sniffing around his head and letting him stroke their chins when he reached up to pet them, not seeming to mind that he was a vampire at all.

“Are they saying anything back to me? Do you understand them?” he asked Hartley.

“No, they’re rats.”

“Oh, I just thought…like a psychic connection maybe?”

“It is, but I don’t hear _English_. It’s a sense, instinct. I'm not a Disney princess.”

Barry snorted before he could stop himself. “I get the feeling I’m going to be reminded life isn’t a movie a lot from now on. I just don’t know anything about your world. _My_ world now.”

“Vampires aren't part of our world,” Hartley said, though with more awe than malice, Barry thought.

“Right…”

“But you seem to be something else.”

“You look like a vampire,” Axel said, “but you don’t act like one.”

“How should I act? Have you met a lot of vampires?”

“No. Never.”

“Then how do you know?”

Axel didn't have an answer for that, but he set the machete on the floor and moved toward Barry, just in time for the rats to scurry away and head back to their master. They climbed up Hartley’s legs and onto his shoulders just as readily as they had Barry.

“Your eyes change color,” Axel said, “ours don't.”

“Yellow, right?”

He nodded, then with some hesitation, continued closer. “Your fangs are so small. See.” He opened his mouth and shifted to Stage Two as easily as changing facial expressions. His fangs looked larger than how Barry’s felt. Axel also looked very different from Len and Lisa.

“Are you a cat?” Barry asked, recognizing the feline shape to his nose and sprouting of whiskers. “A cat and a rat are friends?”

“More than friends, sweetheart,” Hartley said with a pointed, almost warning look.

 _Oh_. Well, at least Barry knew Len liking him wasn’t a fluke in the pack. They were tolerant of more than just opposing shifter types. “That’s cool, not having to worry about stigma among shifters or around your sexuality.”

Axel glanced back at Hartley by the door with a frown as he shifted human, and Barry felt compelled to change human too, tonguing his teeth when he was done to be sure he'd succeeded.

“If you’re asking whether me being gay and falling for a _cat_ didn’t get me shunned by my holier than though traditional _rat_ family, think again,” Hartley spat. “Earning a place in the inner circle of Central City’s pack had them begging for forgiveness, but only once they could gain something. I told them to shove it.”

Barry cringed, realizing how much of his foot he’d just eaten. “I’m sorry.”

“Don't be. Doesn't matter anymore.”

“What about you?” Barry asked Axel, who'd started to inch closer again to look him over.

“I’m an alley cat. Grew up in the Shelter, an orphan. My parents could be psychos for all I know.”

“Shelter?

“Kind of our asylum for people without a place to go,” he said, satisfied at last that Barry wasn't going to lunge at him. “Like elders or orphans who can’t control the change so it’s risky for them to live on their own. Families hoping to relocate from other cities end up there too, temporary until the alpha and his generals can help them find a place. There never seems to be enough help though, or housing or jobs. And well, say or do the wrong thing when you’re a shifter and everyone’s at risk, everyone could be to blame. It’s not easy living like that.”

Families, Lisa had said. Now Barry understood. “Sounds like a lot to fall on Len’s shoulders. On yours too, if you're his generals. Taking care of a whole community under the nose of humans.”

“Which is why sometimes our methods need to fall under the radar,” Hartley moved to join Axel at last, “if you get my meaning.”

“Illegal, yeah. Pretty easy to get.”

“Sometimes for food,” Axel explained, “for the Shelter. Sometimes for money, sometimes just us muscling somebody out who won’t play nice, ya know? But no matter what, it’s always fun for us, Boss makes sure of that.”

Barry felt a twitch at his lips thinking of Len as a criminal with a heart of gold. “Are all alphas in other cities like that? What about the one before Len?”

The pair exchanged a tense look.

“Other cities…sure,” Hartley said. “They try. Central is new to the benevolent leader type though. The Boss’s father was a special sort of bastard. Wolves have always run this city, so my parents stayed out of it, stuck to other rat circles, but Axel…” He looked to his partner with a mix of pity and anger.

“Lewis Snart liked to use the Shelter as a resource,” Axel said quietly.

“Resource?”

“Fresh blood for runners, pickpockets, anything he needed. No one could say no. You never say no to the alpha.”

“He used you like slaves?”

“I was a good runner,” Axel said with a crook to his smile, “even at only six, when I started.”

Barry felt nauseous again.

“It's okay. Didn’t last long. Boss offed his dad to make things better for everyone. He changed things. I got to stay at the Shelter after that without doing anything I didn’t want.”

Len _killed_ his father? The former alpha sounded like an asshole, but still, that had to weigh on Len no matter how many years had passed. Barry couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like.

But then, Len was still a criminal now, wasn’t he?

“You still help him with illegal dealings.”

“Sure, because I want to, not coz the Boss forces me,” Axel said. “There are some great perks being in the inner circle. Werecats like me and rats like Hart are never high up in wolf packs. Cities are usually run by one type, whichever type of shifter is most powerful or with the most numbers, but Boss treats everyone equal and wants his pack made up of everyone. Even humans who know about us. I could have lived a normal life if I wanted, gotten a normal job, but I'm not normal.” His smile remained crooked, eyes always a little wild, but wasn’t that typical of cats?

Barry hoped that wasn't an offensive thought he'd just had.

“Well, you _are_ a shifter,” he said tentatively, not sure how else to word it.

“Shifters aren’t any less normal than humans just because we’re shifters,” Axel affirmed. “We just have sharper teeth.” He chomped his together, and even dulled to human size, he got the point across.

“Can I ask how you’re different from a wolf?” Barry pressed, since it didn’t seem like he’d offended Axel. “Do you all have four forms?”

“Yep,” he said with a grin. “Sight, partial, full, and fun size. Wanna see?”

“ _Axel_.” Hartley frowned in contrast. “You are not undressing for the new guy. Not until I approve anyway.”

“Aw, but Basil and Dawson like him.” Axel motioned to the rats on Hartley's shoulders, then cocked his head at Barry. “I like you too.”

Barry beamed at the welcome he hadn't expected when a machete crossed his threshold. “Yeah? You don’t think I’m scary anymore?”

“Nah. It’s weird, but…you’re really easy to be around.” He even reached out, hesitating a moment before eventually deciding it was worth the risk to playfully slap Barry's shoulder.

“Thanks,” Barry said, noting Hartley's defensiveness was crumbling too. “And you don’t have to show me right now, but I am pretty curious. What kind of cat do you turn into when you’re ‘fun size’?”

Axel giggled, and Barry thought he could get used to these people if this was what the rest of the pack was like. “One thing first before it drives me crazy. You and the Boss.” He nudged Barry's shoulder more forcefully this time. “You still _smell_ like him. How did that even happen?”

“Oh, um…”

“Shh!” Hartley shushed them and turned his head back toward the door.

Barry craned his ears as well, able to pick up two voices at the top of the stairs.

“Why so nervous, Heywood?” a low, rough, menacing man asked. “Is your alpha hiding something down there?”

“What? _No_ ,” the other voice replied, doing a rather terrible job of trying to sound innocent. “Only a terrible taste in wine.”

“God damn it, Nate,” Hartley grumbled. “Come on. We better rescue him before Queen eats him alive.” Hooking his arm with Axel’s, Hartley tugged his boyfriend out the door, leaving Axel to flail a half-hearted wave goodbye.

“See ya, Barry!”

 _Queen_ , Barry wondered? Who was that? Not part of the pack apparently, though Barry thought he could smell…huh.

A wolf. The man was definitely a wolf because there was an undercurrent of something similar to Len and Lisa—though nothing compared to Len himself—and now Barry also knew the way a cat and rat smelled, each unique in a way he couldn’t explain.

The other person—Nate, Hartley had said? He smelled amazing. Not the same as Len, more like…

Barry’s stomach plummeted. _Delicious_. He smelled delicious. Nate must be a human member of the pack. It was strange and terrible how that new smell made Barry think immediately of feeding.

He didn’t have his phone, but Len had provided a small clock on the desk. It was lunchtime, just past. Stranger than all of Barry’s new abilities was having no rumble of normal hunger in his stomach.

People often called him skinny—when they were being nice about it. Otherwise, it was always _Beanpole_ or _String Bean_ , and why were there so many beans involved anyway? Growing up, Barry had felt subconscious about his slender frame. Prison helped him bulk up a little, but his body wasn’t built for more than mild definition.

Despite that, he’d always had a ravenous hunger. He didn’t starve himself like concerned councilors had worried when he was younger; he ate all the time. Food was no longer what he craved though, and it scared him to think that once he did feel real hunger again, beyond Nate smelling so enticing, that his old appetite might translate into a ravenous hunger for blood…

And right now, he wasn’t locked in.

Axel hadn’t closed the door behind him. Barry could leave. He could walk right upstairs and…

No, he didn’t want to escape. He understood why Len wanted him to stay. Now that he’d smelled what was so obviously human blood, he feared what he might do if he had a human in his sights.  Would he attack even though he wasn’t hungry?

“Give it up, Queen, you’re not going to find anything untoward about our alpha,” Hartley’s voice filtered from upstairs. “Why are you so against this merger anyway? Got a thing for sweet ol’ Ray?”

“That’s _Mr. Terrill_ to you. You do not address the alpha of Star City so informally,” Queen growled. “And I am his second. It’s my job to protect him. I am in my rights to drop in unannounced and see what Mr. Snart might be keeping from us. If he has nothing to hide, then I’ll happily endorse the marriage, but that has yet to be proven.”

Mr. Terrill— _Ray_ —was the one Len was betrothed to. And this Mr. Queen was part of his pack.

What was Ray like, Barry wondered, if his second was so ominous? Why was Len marrying him anyway? To unite the packs, for political reasons, he’d said, but he didn’t love him, so _why_? It wasn’t Barry’s business, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Terse argument continued upstairs, Hartley expertly deflecting despite Axel and Nate’s inabilities to lie, but it wasn’t long before a new voice entered the conversation.

“ _Oliver_ ,” someone said, commandingly but without any anger. “Why did your GPS tell me to find you here? You knew I was having lunch with Leonard. How dare you use that opportunity to snoop and pry without my knowledge.”

“Forgive me,” Oliver said with genuine remorse, though he still spoke up to defend himself. “I did not mean to undermine you, but you put too much trust—”

“I decide who I will trust.”

“Yes, of course.”

This was Ray. He was here, right at the top of the stairs, within such easy reach that all Barry had to do was open the door and take a walk.

He shouldn’t, he knew he shouldn’t, he had no intention of making a break for it, yet if he could sneak a peek to understand something of the man—the wolf—that Len was going to marry, maybe it would ease his mind.

Sliding his hand inside the gap of the door, Barry nudged it further open.

“What are you doing here?” he heard Ray ask as he peered up out of the dark at the door above him that was similarly propped to how his had been, leaving just enough of a crack to stream down a sliver of light.

“I saw Heywood poised before this door like he was guarding something,” Queen said.

“Axel and I were going to swipe a bottle of wine and not tell the Boss,” Hartley answered. “Not exactly above board, but not mutiny either. Then we heard Queen’s snarling voice and figured the jig was up.”

“See, Oliver, just an innocent lookout for a theft,” Ray said. “I doubt Leonard would even be that upset.”

“But _you_ are…” Queen—Oliver—said almost accusingly. “Why? Where is Snart? Why aren’t you together after your lunch?”

Silence prompted Barry to ascend the stairs. He could still smell Nate. He could smell Hartley and Axel, and both wolves. Being an alpha didn’t make Ray smell any different from Oliver. He carried his own scent, but not stronger or more alluring. No, what drew Barry to _Len_ was still unique.

He was almost at the crack in the door. He just wanted a peek, a tiny peek at what Ray looked like.

“Stop…” Queen said, audibly sniffing for several seconds before his voice came through much lower and closer than before. “What is that?”

“Wait!” Nate protested, but too late did Barry realize the door was opening, and a tall, blond, grizzled werewolf was staring fiercely back at him.

 

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Barry...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NaNo is the BEST for being able to post quickly.

Barry could flash around the wine cellar like a whirlwind, so fast, he doubted most people would be able to see him, but in that moment with Oliver glaring daggers and then realizing with a sniff what Barry was, he couldn’t think to react until after strong hands fisted in his shirt and hauled him up into the light.

Then, finally, Barry’s fight or flight kicked in, and because he was more terrified than angry—other than being furious at himself for taking such a stupid risk—he kicked outward, dislodging himself from Oliver’s grasp and zipping several yards away before he stopped.

 _Upstairs_. In a living area of the building Len’s pack lived in with sunlight pouring in from various curtains that blinded him as he soon as he looked around.

 _Fuck_ , that hurt.

“Traitor!” Oliver growled, barreling after Barry, though he could barely see him, only spots, like his eyes were burning. “I _knew_ Snart was a traitor! Did he hire you? Is that it? Was he going to sick you on us like some damn assassin if Ray didn’t agree to his terms, or just toss us down there like scraps of meat?!”

“I—”

Oliver seized Barry by the front of his shirt again.

“ _Oliver_ ,” Ray said in warning. “I'm sure there is an explanation for all this.”

Barry could hardly see anything. He wished he had sunglasses like Len had said, and he wasn’t even outside yet. Once his vision started to focus, he could see Oliver shifted into something between Stage Two and Stage Three—definitely a wolf.

Instinct told him to fight— _enemy_ —but he could also smell Nate— _prey_ —throwing his senses into turmoil while the sunlight blinded him. He felt his fangs growing regardless and his eyesight sharpening.

“Oliver!” Ray shouted now, and at last Oliver faltered, loosening his grip, though he didn’t release Barry.

Now was Barry’s chance. He needed to push away again, lash out, do everything he could to—

“What is the meaning of this?”

But peace overtook him as all those mingling scents of _enemy_ and _prey_ faded in lieu of something stronger.

 _Len_.

Oliver’s clawed hands twisted tighter in Barry’s ruined shirt even as he returned human, refusing to let Barry go, while Barry turned to see Len walking swiftly toward them. He could make out the common room more clearly now as his eyes adjusted to the sun, but the room wasn't what held his attention.

Fresh and clean and beautiful, Len soothed Barry’s heightened adrenaline in an instant. Barry let himself relax and his fangs retreat, though he still tore himself from Oliver’s hold with an ease that seemed to surprise the wolf.

Feeling somewhat dizzy, he backed away, wondering where he should retreat to if he'd ruined things enough to get himself killed after all—to the basement or somewhere farther out into the sun—

“Barry,” Len stopped his frantic train of thought, “don’t.”

Again, Barry relaxed, now because Len had said his name. “I'm sorry. I know I was supposed to stay down there—”

“Stop. It doesn’t matter.”

“Then you admit it,” Oliver snarled as Len joined them in the large, high-roofed common room with plush furniture and—huh, an overdone assortment of Halloween decorations.

Barry would have found it charming that a group of werecreatures had fake cobwebs and little witch and black cat cutouts everywhere if this wasn't a dire situation.

“You had this _thing_ on standby,” Oliver continued, “if negotiations didn’t go your way.”

“That is not Barry’s purpose. He only arrived last night. It’s complicated but not a betrayal.” Len's eyes turned beseechingly to Ray, who was unfairly handsome and well built now that Barry had the chance to look.

He was closer in age to Len with similarly shorn and greying hair, rather adorably prominent ears, and something in his face told Barry that he was usually sweet with a kind smile—when he had something to smile about.

As he moved closer to stand between Len and Oliver, he was also much closer to Barry, and when he sniffed the air with a curious tilt of his head, his expression turned cold.

“We need to speak alone,” he said to Len. “ _Now_.”

Barry tried to back toward the basement.

“I’m not letting that fanger out of my sight,” Oliver said, moving to block him but also half treating him like he wasn’t there by not even bothering to address him directly. “If he simply wandered into your territory, he should have been put down the moment you smelled him.”

“Stay _put_ ,” Len said, hands outstretched to indicate he meant everyone, before he turned back to Oliver, “and you do not touch him again. Understood? We’ll be back.”

He gave a solemn nod to Ray and let the other alpha lead him from the room.

 

XXXXX

 

“Him? You want a clause in our marriage to sleep with whoever you want so you can have _him_? A vampire—”

“It’s not like that.”

“I could _smell_ you on him, Leonard.”

Shit. Len knew he should have woken Barry up to get him showered before he left, but he hadn’t predicted so much could unravel so quickly.

They were in his office now, secluded in a small room, yet they might as well have been miles apart.

“I’m surprised I couldn’t smell him on you.” Ray faced Len only halfway, arms crossed and a sneer marring his face.

There was no scent of Barry on Len because he _had_ showered and had been careful to change into clothes that hadn’t been in the cellar. “It’s not like that,” he said again. “I can explain, but you need to listen to me and believe what I tell you.”

“After you went out of your way to remind me you’re a liar?”

Naturally, that would come back to bite Len, but he tried once more. “It isn’t what you think.”

“Fine,” Ray conceded with a huff. “Then tell me what's going on but tell me the truth.”

So Len did—everything except that Lisa had been the seer who made the prophecy. That information was for family only, and Ray hadn’t earned the privilege yet. Len still explained there _was_ a prophesy and seer involved and how Barry was different from other vampires.

He hoped learning that Len had been enthralled into sleeping with Barry would banish the look of disgust from Ray’s face, but that held strong.

“A prophesy about a vampire takeover of Central City?” Ray said with queasy understanding dawning. “It makes sense why you’re hesitant to kill him then, but you trust him, just like that? How can you be certain he isn’t part of the plan, that he isn’t using you to lead things exactly where his master wants?”

Len answered the same way he had his pack last night and this morning. “I don’t know. I just trust him.”

Another huff, but at least Ray looked like he believed Len and finally let his arms drop from shielding his body. “The infamous Snart intuition that has all the other packs assuming you’re mad?”

“You tell me.” Len braved a smile. “You know every decision I’ve made since I became alpha. Am I mad? Were the decisions I made so far wrong or did they end up hurting this city or my pack, or did they make us stronger?”

Ray hesitated because he knew the answer.

“You’re better than the other packs,” Len said in earnest. “You look past the prejudices that blind the rest of them.”

“With having other shifter types in your ranks, yes, even humans, but never a vampire. Leonard…” The wall Ray had erected began to crumble away, and he was once again the understanding man Len believed could help save his city. “If you’re right, then more than just Central City is at risk.”

“I know. So help me keep this quiet from the other packs. Help me figure this out before it becomes everyone’s problem. Please.” Len never begged, but now that the vampire bat was out off the bag, he needed to turn this situation to his favor.

Ray looked almost grateful that Len was asking so much of him, trusting him, but then that glimmer of hope Len was so good at crushing cleared away. “You never would have told me if this hadn’t happened, would you?”

“No,” Len admitted. “Not if I could have solved it on my own.”

Len was the cold one between them. He'd been called that by more than just Ray, ever since he killed his father without shedding a tear, but Ray was no bleeding-heart pushover.

He moved into Len's space and let his eyes flash bright.

“If you expect me to continue negotiations and still consider your offer for marriage, this does not happen again. You have to be honest with me. If something comes up that can in any way affect me or my pack, you tell me. That is nonnegotiable.”

“I understand,” Len said.  

“Your other stipulations,” Ray grimaced, “I still need to think about. Until we sort through this, negotiations are on hold. Oliver will be the only one I explain everything to—for now. If all you said is true, that vampire out there could have run just now. He didn’t. That either means you’re right that he’s worth trusting, or I’m right that he may be leading you to your doom.”

“At least we agree he isn’t a pest to be squashed without thought. That's all I ask. There is value in keeping him alive.”

“Yes,” Ray said, despite looking nauseous that Len wanted to keep Barry at all. “Can you at least do me the courtesy of not sleeping with anyone else until we conclude negotiations, no matter what my final decision?”

“It wasn't intentional—”

“I don't care.”

Len kept his real answer simple. “Yes. I can do that.”

“You're still keeping something from me, aren’t you?” Ray was observant and not easily swindled. Len would know better in the future than to ever think he could hide something from him.

“Not for me, but to protect my pack.”

“The seer’s identity?”

Len couldn’t answer, because anything he said might shed more light on who it was.

Ray sighed. “That I understand you keeping to yourself, but I hope someday you trust me enough to share everything with me. I need time to consider what's happened. We'll reconvene tomorrow. For now, let’s just make sure Oliver hasn’t started anymore fights.”

 

XXXXX

 

“So, um…you're from Starling?” Barry said to disrupt the tension left behind by Len and Ray's departure.

Oliver's stare could have withered a ficus.

“Hard to tell considering how much time he spends up his own ass,” Hartley muttered.

Barry hadn't moved from his previous location, and Oliver likewise remained poised in front of the basement door. Hartley and Axel, however, had moved to stand with Barry in solidarity, much to his surprise—and to Oliver’s it seemed, though no matter how shocked he might have been that a rat and a cat had sided with a vampire, he wouldn’t stop glaring. Barry would swear he could also hear growling.

“Barry, was it?” Nate asked, nearby, though not as close to Barry as the others.

“Yeah. Barry Allen.”

“New in town, huh? Ever been to Central City before?”

“I was born here, actually. I moved to Gotham when I was a kid.”

“Welcome home.” Nate smiled, and something about the phrase caught Barry up short though he didn’t know why.

“Uh…thanks.”

Nate nodded. For some reason, he didn’t seem at all weirded out by his companions’ acceptance of Barry. He rolled with the punches like he was used to strange occurrences. Barry envied him that adaptability.

His smell still called to Barry but not as powerfully as before. It was as though Len’s presence, Len’s scent, overpowered everything else and held Barry captive.

 _Like now_ , he thought, turning toward the door just before Len and Ray walked back through it.

“You, basement, go,” Len commanded.

“Len—”

“ _Now_.”

“Okay, but please don’t blame Hartley or Axel,” Barry rushed on anyway. “It was all a jumble after Oliver arrived. They didn’t mean to leave the cellar door open, and I know I should have stayed down there, but once I heard Ray, I…” The withering look from Len was almost as fierce as Ray himself, a double whammy from both pissed off alphas that snapped Barry's mouth shut. “Sorry. Going. It was nice to meet you, Nate.” He scurried for the basement.

“You too, Barry!”

For a moment, Barry thought Oliver would continue to block his way, but he moved aside at the last second. Now Barry knew for sure he’d heard growling because Oliver was still doing it.

And now Barry was getting his new friends chewed out, he just knew it, all because he hadn’t been able to control himself. He was such an idiot. Nate’s delicious smell aside, it was Ray who had prompted Barry to go upstairs more than any urge to feed. He’d just been so curious about the man destined to marry Len and make their packs one.

Not only did Ray and Oliver hate Barry now, maybe Len did too.

At least they didn’t seem to have made the decision to kill him. Even if Ray hated him, he was still listening to Len, still giving Len the benefit of the doubt. He must be a good man. 

Which made it _worse_.

Barry couldn’t lock himself in, but he made sure to close the wine cellar door once he got down there. With it closed, he couldn’t quite make out what everyone was saying upstairs, their voices too low, maybe hushed on purpose to elude him.

Picking at the slices in his shirt from Oliver’s claws—in _Len’s_ shirt that he’d been allowed to borrow—Barry thought the tattered remains were an all too perfect microcosm for his life right now.

He lost track of the minutes while sitting on the edge of the bed, but it wasn’t long before Len came down.

“Len—”

“Don’t,” Len said, but his sharpness deflated after a breath and he looked at Barry more in sympathy than anger. “It doesn’t matter. Might even be for the best, honestly, because now we have Ray and Oliver to assist in undermining your master. You’re lucky Ray is reasonable. Few of the alphas from other cities would be as merciful after discovering a vampire. But if you step out of line again…”

“I won’t.”

“Why did you go up there? Because of Ray, you said?”

Barry twiddled his thumbs as he stared at the floor. “I was curious about the voices at first. When I caught Nate’s scent…it scared me how appetizing he smelled. Then I heard Ray…”

“And?”

“I wanted to see what your fiancé looked like,” Barry admitted to his feet. “I didn’t mean to make things more complicated for you.”

A sigh and the soft pad of feet alerted Barry to Len’s forward momentum until he sat beside him on the bed. He smelled so _good_ , so much better than Nate or anything else for that matter, but even though a small part of Barry wanted to taste Len again like he had last night, it wasn’t about blood.

“At least we don’t have to hide you anymore,” Len said. “You handled it well, all things considered. If you’d gone on the offensive with Oliver, things might have turned out differently. But Nate smelled like a meal to you?”

Barry glanced sideways at him. “A little. I wasn’t going to do anything about it, it just caught me by surprise. I didn’t feel out of control.”  

“Good. But I never want you alone with him. Humans are usually more appetizing to vampires. Your next challenge will be handling yourself in a crowd, but you can’t go anywhere like this.” He reached for the slices in Barry’s shirt, cool fingers slipping through the opening of one to touch Barry’s bare skin.

He was a dangerous beauty, deadly as a wolf, yet he treated Barry kindly. Feeling Len’s touch made everything clearer somehow, even better than merely smelling him nearby.

Slowly, Barry reached up to place his hand over Len’s.

“Pick out something new to wear.” Len stood abruptly, taking his hand with him. “I’ll let you get cleaned up before we head to the hotel.”

“Hotel?” Barry felt his cheeks flush hot before he noticed the deadpan look on Len’s face. “For my things! Right. Yeah.”

“Quickly.” Len gestured at the duffle filled with clothes for Barry to choose a new shirt, though maybe he'd grab a new everything since he hated putting on dirty clothes after a shower, even if he had only worn them for a few hours. “If you’re not in here, someone will always be with you, two rather than one if possible, and never—”

“Never Nate, got it,” Barry said, digging into the bag to obey. Once he’d chosen an armful, he stood to follow Len to the door. “Um, can I have my phone back?”

Len froze with his hand reaching for the handle. “Why?”

“Coz it’s nice to have it, that’s all. I don’t have anyone to call, and you can check my logs every day if you want, I just…I want to see if Uncle Eo left a message last night.”

The tension that had gripped Len’s shoulders eased away. “Fine, but I will check your logs at the end of the day to see if you make or receive any calls or texts I'm not okay with. And don’t try deleting them. Hartley can recover anything you try to hide.”

“Thank you.” Barry hurried after Len to follow him up the stairs, curious about where everyone had gone when they reached the top and no one was around. “I really am sorry about Ray.”

“It was inevitable.” Len shrugged, leading Barry swiftly through the lower level of the…mansion? Apartment complex? Renovated warehouse?

That must be it, because the place was huge, the main room downstairs almost like a hotel lobby, though decorated more simply--and with word streamers saying things like BOO and TRICK OR TREAT.

Barry briefly caught sight of a kitchen as they neared an open winding staircase to the second level, but it was still hard to focus with the way the sun bothered him. It was like how a bright light felt being turned on for the first time after being in the dark all night, only it took much longer for him to adjust.

Focused as he was on looking around, Barry almost didn’t realize when Len stopped at a door. A bedroom door. _Len’s_ bedroom door, Barry realized, with how casually he entered it, how much ownership he exuded, and how the simple muted colors fit him. Plus, there was a photo of him and Lisa on the dresser.

He had a private bathroom too, maybe all the rooms did, and he was offering it to Barry now, flicking on the light and gesturing him inside. He seemed tense, troubled, despite his efforts to act like everything was fine and not as bad as Barry feared.

“You seem upset about something else,” Barry said before crossing the threshold into the bathroom. He didn’t expect Len to admit what that something was, but when Len looked at him, centered and strong, it was as if a veil lifted between them.

Maybe Barry _was_ easy to be around. A few of his prison mates had said so too, which helped keep Barry from making enemies, but that had never been the case before Blackgate. Usually, it had been the opposite, people avoiding him, bothered by his presence, never wanting to get close.

Fitting in at prison wasn’t the best scenario but fitting in here felt right.

“Negotiations aren’t going well with Ray,” Len admitted.  

“The marriage?”

“He knows we slept together.”

 _Oh_. “Oh god.” That's why he'd looked so cold after he sniffed Barry.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“I’m—”

“Stop apologizing. It’s not your fault or your problem. Just shower. When you’re done, we can go.”

 _Not Barry’s problem_ , he thought again after shutting the door behind him. Because Len wasn’t his and never could be. Not that it made sense for Barry to want Len when they’d only just met, but he made Barry feel balanced and at peace somehow, like he usually only did when he was drawing or painting or marking someone with ink.

Barry had stumbled upon his tattoo skills somewhat by accident. At Blackgate, after discovering fellow inmates trying to give themselves makeshift tats with less than sterile supplies, Barry had begged them to stop.

“What do you care?” one of them sneered.

“I care about having to look at your gangrene arms when they need to be amputated after the infections you’re about to give yourselves.”

That stopped them cold. “You got a better idea?”

Barry had wanted to say, yeah, wait until you get out and can go to a reputable shop, but he was trying to survive, make nice, not yet knowing how long he’d have to serve time, so he said that if they gave him a few days, he’d help them create a setup that would give them what they wanted without risking infection or other complications.

From there, he worked to make sure the ink they’d acquired wouldn’t cause allergic reactions and that the needles they used were properly sterilized. He explained how they needed to look after their tattoos to protect the skin in the weeks following and said if anyone failed to listen to his rules and got an infection, then that was on them and he’d stop helping.

His artwork was so good, so coveted after a while, not a single inmate dared go against his aftercare instructions. He could have gotten in trouble of course, tattooing in prison wasn’t usually tolerated, but if any of the guards knew what was going on, they must have seen the benefits in having someone do the job well instead of spreading Hepatitis B everywhere.

Barry wondered if the inmates he’d taught his tricks of the trade were keeping up with his advice. He hoped so. He hadn’t made lasting friends there, but he hadn’t met anyone he wished ill either.

Before he could finish putting the clothes down, there was a knock at the door behind him. He peeked out to see Len waving his cell phone at him, which he handed Barry through the opening.

“Don’t play Candy Crush all afternoon now. Be quick in there.”

“I will!” Barry grinned at the extension of trust. “Thank you!”

Len nodded, and Barry shut the door again, quickly scrolling through his messages. As expected, there wasn’t much, but he did have a voicemail.

“Barry,” Eobard’s voice came over the line, exhausted but sincere. “I know you think you need to avoid me, but you don’t. I just want what’s best for you. Everything with Blackgate, you don’t have to feel shame for that. Please talk to me. I’m worried about you, wondering where you are, what you’re up to, how you’re surviving. I just want to hear your voice. I love you.”

That only twisted the knife further, because Barry knew he was being silly thinking his uncle wouldn’t forgive him, but he’d let it go on for so long now, he wasn’t sure how to open up communications again, especially after becoming a vampire, with no idea what his future held.

He decided to offer one simple text back, knowing Len would read it later and hopefully find no reason to disapprove.

_I’m safe. I need a little more time, but when I’m ready, I’ll call. I love you too._

Barry set his phone aside and hurried into the shower.

 

XXXXX

 

Len’s dark colors didn’t suit Barry at all. Len wasn’t sure what would, but he was about to find out beyond the outfit he hadn’t paid much attention to last night since they were on their way to his hotel.

Barry assured Len that everything could easily fit in the trunk of the car. He’d been hoping to find a furnished apartment, so he didn’t have much. Just his luck he’d been turned into a vampire then because he never would have been able to afford a place like that on a tattoo artist’s salary.  

“Right here, Mick,” Len said, sitting in the back of the car with Barry. Barry's introduction to Mick when he arrived to pick them up had gone about as Len expected.

“Hi! I’m Barry. Are you—”

“Get in the car, leech.”

“Uh…right.”

Mick wouldn't be won over as easily as Hartley and Axel, though that had surprised Len too. There was just something about Barry, everyone kept saying—even Len. He needed to discover if that was because of Barry’s vampire abilities or just him as he was.

Len needed to be vigilant, especially getting a look at Barry’s things and where he'd been staying. He knew this hotel well, and he watched Barry carefully as he navigated a public space for the first time since being turned.

He was clearly bothered by the sun and distracted by the many smells around him, the many people, all human, but while he’d pause every so often or turn his head to sniff, he didn’t once look agitated enough to cause concern.  

“So, Mick hates me already,” he said, once they reached the room Barry had been staying in for the past week.

“He rarely warms to anyone,” Len said.

Mick was waiting in the car, but Len stayed close, looking for anything that might give him additional insight into whether Barry was above board, and if he was, why had his master chosen him?

Perusing the room while Barry packed, Len let his fingers drift over the walls and various surfaces. Nothing too fancy, but not a shit hole either. There was a kitchenette, extended-stay style. Clothes and papers littered the room, but there were no dirty dishes in the sink, merely clutter. On the desk rested a few larger sheets of paper, one with some scribbles, but the other…

It was the woman again, Len realized, the one from Barry’s portfolio with the whites of her eyes gone black and the irises glowing.

Just like a seer.

Her eyes didn’t look that way this time, it was simply a portrait of a beautiful woman smiling with gently cascading hair, but Len could tell it was the same visage.

“Who is this?” he asked. “You’ve drawn her before.”

“That’s my mom,” Barry said, pausing in his diligent collecting of strewn about possessions. “She comes out a lot in my art. Not that I don’t love my dad too, but I picture Mom more clearly. People used to say I looked like her. Maybe that’s why.”

 _A human seer_ , Len thought, almost certain now, even if Barry had no idea, and maybe she never truly knew either. The shape of her eyes was very much like Barry’s actually.

Eyes he kept rubbing. He’d freshly fed, but he wasn’t used to the glare of the sun being so unforgiving. Time and time again, he would squint or shake his head to clear his vision. He was a nocturnal creature now, trying to force himself into the light.

“Okay, I'm ready.”

Len startled, looking Barry over more carefully to find him holding one small suitcase and a backpack. The sketches he came over to pick up carefully, obviously intending to add them to his portfolio later, but still.

That was it? Two bags?

“What about—” Len started to gesture toward the kitchen.

“One plate, one cup, and a fork? It's not a full set of dishes or anything. I washed everything each time I used it. I don't need the rest.”

Len was amazed, maybe slightly impressed, but he certainly wasn’t going to suggest that Barry bring a single plate. “You lived like this before Blackgate?”

“No. I lived with my uncle.”

“How old are you?”

Barry frowned as if affronted by the implication that he had to be younger to live at home. “Twenty-eight, so what? I had home ripped away from me, is it so wrong to want to keep another version of it for a while longer?”

Len recognized the bitter edge in his tone, because he’d used it too. His mother passed shortly after Lisa was born. He didn’t remember her nearly as much as he wished he did. At least Barry had had a home to cling to after he lost his parents. Len had Lisa and Leo, but the structure that should have made up their home, built on the foundation of a loving father, had never proved true.

“Not judging,” Len said. “Only curious. Like why you’re still wearing my clothes instead of changing into your own.”

Barry stiffened. “Well I…I've changed twice today already so… Did you want me to—”

“No need to undress for me, Barry,” Len smirked.

There was something especially alluring about the way Barry blushed, clamming up and chuckling with a glance to the side that made Len want to cup his face and kiss him.

He had to stop. He trusted Barry, but that didn’t mean he could casually flirt with him and take him to bed again. He’d promised Ray he’d be faithful at least through negotiations. Len owed him that much.  

“Let’s go,” Len said and turned for the door.

There was still the matter of the bill.

“Mr. Snart!” the concierge on duty greeted him when they approached the front desk. “Do you need—”

“Just here to check out today, Mr. Sullivan, and to settle Mr. Allen's bill.” Len indicated Barry.

“Oh, you don't have to—” Barry tried, but Len stopped him.

“I saw what meager possessions you own, kid. I'll cover it.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

If Sullivan was curious about their arrangement, he made no comment. “Always a pleasure to do business with you, Mr. Snart,” he said as he rang up the total, which was hardly a dip in Len’s coffers. “Will we be seeing you again soon?”

“Like clockwork,” Len said. “This was merely a detour.”

Barry was silent until they reached the exit. “Do I want to ask why he knows you so well?”

“I don't bring my whores here if that's what you're thinking.”

“I _wasn't_.”

“Business, however,” Len said, “isn’t always conducted in the open.”

“Illegal business?” Barry asked, then thought better of saying that so loud. “Dumb question, sorry.”

Len waited until they were safely out of the hotel and back in the car before he explained. “To the tattoo parlor, Mick,” he said first.

“You got it, boss.”

“I mentioned that I work with the mayor.” He turned to Barry.

“Oh right. Can't exactly meet in public.”

“No, we cannot.”

Given the location Barry had been staying at, Len allowed himself a moment to wonder if Ralph had anything to do with this. If _Mayor Dibny_ , sniveling human that he was, and the only human with any power in Central City who knew about the supernatural, had the spine and wherewithal to challenge Len, this was just the sort of inane scheme he would have come up with.

But no, Ralph was loyal. After all, Len had been the driving force in getting him elected.

“Is Roy at the shop?” Barry asked.

“He usually is.”

“What about everyone else?”

“You'll meet the rest of the pack tonight. Including me, there are twelve total who live in that house.” Thirteen with Barry added—an auspicious number. “But there are many other shifters throughout the city who are my responsibility. Anyone who lives in Central and is something other than human is expected to announce themselves and be known.”

“What, like you're a king?”

“He _is_ King,” Mick growled from up front.

“O-oh.” Barry promptly grew silent.

“Don’t let it rattle you,” Len said, though he did nothing to dispel Barry’s notion that he was royalty. “As long as you're with me or someone from my inner circle, no one will question you again, even if they don't like you.”

“Wait, so that concierge—"

“Human. You can smell the difference, remember?”

“Right. Sure. Great.” He sounded anything but.

“If you’re curious about what the others do in their spare time, everyone has their place. I run the city, but Mick is my second, not only my driver. Should something happen to me, while Lisa is diplomat to the surrounding packs, Mick would stand in to replace me. There are still some archaic notions that biggest and strongest means best among our people, but trust me, they'd rule together. They always have my ear now.”

Mick scoffed none too subtly considering Len hadn't listened about Barry.

“Hartley,” Len ignored the jab, “acts as treasurer, our accountant. Axel is good for word on the street, but more so ambassador to the common shifters. Nate is our historian, a curator of supernatural knowledge. Normally, that role wouldn’t fall to a human, but as a professor of history and the occult at CCU, he has proven to be a valuable asset.

“Amaya vouched for him. She is our shaman. You’ll see her soon enough. Then there is our general should we need to gather troops, Rosa, and her partner Sam, who acts as my spymaster. For internal affairs, Shawna is my warden, more like a sheriff, and her partner Mark acts as magister, our local magician and practitioner of the dark arts. Not all shifters are attuned to magic, not any more than humans, but he has a way with elemental spells like no one else.

“Altogether we have a full court, and I’ll expect you to pull your weight as well.”

Barry was quiet, taking it all in. When he did finally speak, it wasn't with a question like Len expected. “All this magic around me, and I never knew. No one knows.”

“Some humans know. Some are seers or warlocks themselves.”

“But most people just go about their daily lives completely oblivious. It's almost sad. Why not—"

“Don't start in about the lacking kum ba yahs. You're smart. You know why we can't reveal ourselves.”

Barry rested back against his headrest. “Because the world won't abide monsters even if they prove themselves allies,” he said like he had heard that lesson before.

“Well said.”

“Is that how you think of me?” he asked softly.

“I think I'm abiding you just fine.” Len looked at him, sitting there in Len's clothes, relaxed and wistful. “It's everyone else you have to work on.”

They parked at the tattoo shop, and Len’s brief mirth ebbed away, once he realized Lisa was there too, which was not typical, yet he could see her through the window. She knew he would bring Barry here and wanted to keep an eye on him. Fine. Better to squash or nurture her reservations accordingly.

“Let’s go.”

They entered to find Roy in the back with a client and Lisa manning the counter. There were day-to-day workers for that sort of thing, but she grinned dangerously nonetheless, clearly having given someone the day off.

“Looking for some ink?” she smirked. “I’m afraid we’re short-staffed at the moment.”

“Good thing we have a new hire then.” Len pushed Barry forward. “ _You_ watch the counter while my sister and I have a chat.”

 

XXXXX

 

Barry didn't envy Len having to explain what happened with Ray to Lisa. Though maybe he wasn't better off since watching the counter meant being alone with Mick.

“Um…” He grimaced at having to look toward the shop entrance where Mick stood, large and imposing in human form, which made Barry wonder what he looked like at Stage Three, but he still wasn’t enough to block the sunlight.

Mick made a disgusted noise and suddenly produced a pair of black round-lensed Ray-Ban's from out of nowhere. They didn't seem his style, Barry thought, until he realized Mick was giving them to _him_.

“Oh, I—"

“Take ‘em. Can't have you squinting all day, leech.”

Urg, ‘leech’ was definitely going to stay. “Thanks,” Barry said, accepting them gratefully. The relief with them on was immediate.

Just in time for three things to happen at once.

Mick got a call.

Lisa sputtered, “ _What?_ ” from the back of the shop.

And the bell chimed as someone entered the front.

“Hi!” Barry greeted, struck by the alluring scent of _human_ as the customer came up to the counter.

He was slight of stature with long dark hair, dark eyes, and a friendly smile despite looking entirely out of place in a tattoo parlor wearing a T-shirt that said: T. REX ALSO HATES PULL-UPS.

Barry hadn’t had much trouble being surrounded by humans so far. It was easy when he wasn't directly interacting with anyone, but while he’d feared he might have a much harder time one on one, he actually felt fine. The young man smelled amazing, but Barry didn't want to bite him. In fact, looking at him, about to have a normal conversation with him, Barry almost felt human himself.   

“Nice shades, dude,” the guy said.

“Thanks. I swear I'm not the sunglasses inside or at night kinda guy, I'm just a little sensitive today.”

“Rough Halloween?”

“You have no idea. So, how can I help you?”

“I'm your neighbor!” the man said brightly.

“You’re...”

“Flower shop.” He gestured over his shoulder, and Barry remembered there was indeed a flower shop across the street. “You must be new, I’m out front all the time.”

“You come here often?” Barry didn't see any visible tattoos.

“No, but I've been drumming up the nerve to come in for a while. Today, I'm finally gonna do it. I chose the perfect tattoo.” He slapped an image of _Bulbasaur_ on the counter that made Barry stifle a snicker. “Ink me up, man! I'm Cisco, by the way.”

 

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still enjoying? So much more to come as well as some twists I hope you don't see coming. :-)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last! Sorry for the delay, but between travel and the holidays, it was tough to get this one finished. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

Cisco wanted Bulbasaur somewhere easy to show off but also easy to hide. He didn’t care how the tattoo looked so long as it was good and clearly Bulbasaur.

Barry didn’t think it would be creative enough to simply take the base image Cisco had slapped down and plaster it on the guy’s shoulder, so he suggested a partial sleeve in the middle of Cisco’s forearm that could be hidden with certain shirts and shown off with others. Plus, then Barry could add additional elements, like other plants and hints of Bulbasaur’s future forms, even a Poke Ball.

Grabbing some paper, he started to sketch what he was thinking, laying it out flat even though once applied it would wrap around Cisco’s arm. Cisco watched with rapt attention while Barry worked right at the front counter.

“How are you doing that so fast?”

“I’ve always been able to speed sketch.” Barry shrugged. “If you like what I come up with, we can probably get going right away. How much time do you have?”

“All afternoon. I’m done with my shift at the shop. Let’s do this!”

In no time, Barry had the sketch scanned and printed on stencil paper to lay over Cisco’s skin and trace. He hadn’t been officially hired or trained at the Rogues Gallery, but it wasn’t difficult to find what he needed and get himself setup at another station near Roy.

All the while, his new watchdogs—somewhat literally—kept their eyes on him, how he moved and interacted with his human patron. Len and Lisa even stopped their heated whispering.

It wasn’t all that interesting to scrutinize him, Barry thought, but at least Cisco didn’t seem to notice they had an audience. He was content to chat with Barry and make friends, discovering quickly that they had a lot in common. It was nice that he was a neighbor Barry would hopefully see more of.

Truth was, Cisco was nervous, Barry could tell. Most people were when getting their first tattoo. Cisco was clearly trying to distract himself by never letting the silence linger more than a few seconds. Barry didn’t mind, happy to oblige and banter over their favorite Pokemon.

He’d always been more of a Pikachu fan, which he knew was lame and expected, but he liked what he liked. If keeping to the other three starter Pokemon, he was more partial to Squirtle.

“Squirtle? Dude, come on, Bulbasaur is so much better. Not to mention adorable.”

Barry laughed, finished shaving and cleaning the area he was about to ink and getting his needle ready for the initial outlines. It wasn’t until the buzzing started and he made the first press to Cisco’s skin that he realized why the wolves were watching so intently. It wasn’t because it was his first client, or because he was interacting with a human.

It was because of the blood.

If Barry could smell humans just by being near them, that appetizing draw of the blood beneath their skin, then bringing that fresh scent to the surface was one hundred times stronger.

Cisco took a deep breath from the pain, snapping Barry out of his distraction. Why hadn’t it dawned on him sooner what a terrible job this was for a vampire?

“Okay, man, you can do this,” Cisco said—to himself, though Barry tried to internalize the advice too.

Yes, the bubble of blood from each stroke of the needle made him salivate, but he wasn’t hungry or in need of blood, not so soon after feeding from Len, and he was not out of control. He would _not_ be out of control.

“Relax,” Barry said, keeping his eyes on his work and focusing on the ink more than any pooling red. “Keep talking. You’ve been waiting a long time for this, right? And it’s going to look amazing, I promise.

“Tell me, if not Bulbasaur, if you could choose any other Pokemon, who’s your favorite? For me, it has to be Jiggly Puff. She’s so cute when she gets mad about putting people to sleep from her singing.”

“U-umm…Oddish, definitely,” Cisco said, taking another steadying breath. “Super cute in a tiny package and hiding a powerhouse of kickassery.”

“Sounds like he could be your spirit animal.”

“ _Dude_ ,” Cisco chuckled. “Do not make me laugh right now.”

Barry smiled. He could do this, even if every time he paused to wipe away the blood, he wanted to lap at it with his tongue.

_Stay calm. Focus. You are in control. Just listen. Listen and focus and breathe._

Except Barry didn’t need to breathe. Still, he repeated the mantra in his head, over and over, his attention entirely on Cisco.

Who’d stopped talking for some reason.

Pulling the needle away and looking up, Barry saw Cisco staring at him blankly, eyes glazed like he was listening to every word, even though Barry wasn’t talking.

Oh shit. Had Barry enthralled Cisco just by thinking those things? He didn’t need to bite the person?!

Licking his lips, Barry looked down at the blood leaking from his work so far. If Cisco was enthralled, he would hardly notice if Barry gave a simple lick.

It was so tempting. He even leaned down and sniffed at the aroma of fresh blood right from the source. No wonder everyone was leery of him if vampires could render someone incapable of defending themselves with barely a thought.

Like Barry had done to Len. His thrall was why they’d slept together, no matter how much Len said he let it happen.

“Cisco,” Barry said to snap them both back to attention.

Cisco blinked and spoke on as if he’d never paused. “Know what I mean?”

“Sure,” Barry said, despite not having been listening before. “Keep going. We’ll be done before you know it.”

As Cisco continued regaling Barry with his favorite Pokemon, tips and tricks for the games, and that one time after Pokemon Go first came out when he nearly walked into the street trying to catch a Ponyta, Barry glanced aside and noticed how close Len, Lisa, and Mick all were, Roy still with his client, but also looking as if he’d been about to pounce.

They’d all seen him slip, all worried he’d falter, but he hadn’t.

Barry nodded at Len to say he was fine and returned to his work.

“So uhh… who’s the knockout?” Cisco asked sometime later. He seemed to be doing better, having certain spots that would hurt more, some not at all, some ticklish, as long as he kept talking.

Barry realized he meant _Lisa_ , who’d moved to the front, in deep discussion with Len and Mick. “Do you know Len?” he asked.

“The smoldering guy who owns the place? Sure. She’s not his wife, is she?”

“Sister. Her name’s Lisa. But fair warning, Len seems like the over-protective type.”

“Shoot.” Cisco’s expression flickered with fear. “I see it now. Same dreamy eyes.”

 _Len did have dreamy eyes_ , Barry thought with a smirk.

“He can’t disapprove once I turn on the puppy pout though. Patent pending. I’m harmless! Plus, she keeps looking over here.”

The hopeful look that replaced Cisco’s fear made Barry’s gut clench. He didn’t have the heart to tell him that she was likely looking at Barry.

Only maybe she was looking at both, because the next time Barry stole a glance up front, Lisa’s eyes seemed to fondly trace over Cisco more than casting a stern glare on _him_.

“Ask her out,” Barry said, almost surprising himself with the declaration.

“ _What?_ ” Cisco hissed. “Just like that?”

“Why not? Life’s too short for ‘if onlys’. Trust me.” He knew firsthand after being technically dead—or reborn? Undead? He wasn’t sure.

“Seriously? Right in front of her scary, sexy brother?”

Barry wondered if Cisco realized how much he kept admitting Len’s attractiveness. If he did, he wasn’t trying to hide it. “I don’t know Lisa well, but I get the feeling she’d take more notice if you _did_ ask her out in front of her brother. Be bold.”

“Bold.” Cisco nodded.

“Worked for you so far today.” Barry indicated the mini sleeve, with all its lines finished—including a small Oddish Barry had added to a less busy section of the collage. He and Bulbasaur were both plant types after all, so they matched well.

“This is amazing! It’s perfect!”

“Wait ‘til it’s colored,” Barry said with a smile. He really did love tattooing. They were so personal, intimate for a person and saying so much about them. Getting someone to smile over a drawing was one thing, but art on their body was something they’d carry with them forever.

By the time Cisco’s tattoo was finished, Roy had parted with his initial client and was onto another, Mick had left and eventually came back, and Len and Lisa looked like they’d hashed out their argument to at least being cordial again. They continued their discussion, however, which Barry could only assume revolved around Ray and next steps for figuring out who Barry’s sire was.

He supposed he could have eavesdropped with his newly heightened hearing, but that had gotten him into enough trouble today.  

Honestly, he hadn’t given his sire’s identity much thought, mostly because he couldn’t imagine it was anyone he knew. Why someone would choose him for whatever this plot was, why he was special or stronger than the average vampire, or his sire’s real name and face just wasn’t the most important thing to him.

Which he realized with somewhat of a drop in his stomach might be intentional.

Could he be controlled without realizing it? He’d controlled Cisco with no effort, and they’d said it would be nearly impossible for him to resist what his master wanted from him…

Shaking those thoughts from his mind, at least for now, Barry finished his aftercare instructions with Cisco and brought him up front to check him out. The others gave him space, not crowding, but Barry could tell Cisco was nervous with the idea of taking Barry up on his suggestion.

He gave Barry a very generous tip, took a breath, then walked right over to Lisa as if Len and Mick weren’t looming nearby.

“Hey. You should come by sometime.” He handed Lisa a card for the flower shop with an impressively steady hand.

“Oh?” She smirked, plucking the card from him with two fingers that barely missed grazing his skin. Given what had happened when Barry touched her, she was probably very careful about contact with other people.  

“For uhh…” Cisco glanced at the menacing brother figures and faltered. “…flowers! For here, you know, add some greenery to this place, maybe say hello if I’m there. Since we’re neighbors.”

“I might have to do that,” Lisa said.

“Yeah! Great. Awesome. That is…awesome.” Cisco opened his mouth as if he might say something more but chose to retreat back to Barry. “I was half bold,” he whispered. “That’s a start, right? Thanks, man. I seriously love it. See you around?”

“I’ll be here.” Barry hoped. If he didn’t fuck up some other way in the near future.

Lisa watched Cisco leave with a grin, but the expression dropped when her eyes landed on Barry. “Cheater,” she growled.

“What did I do?”

She obviously wasn’t won over. By Cisco maybe, but not by Barry. Len and Mick might feel differently, but when Len still stalked toward Barry, he merely nodded in satisfaction.

“Impressive. I feared we might have a problem back there. Your control is remarkable. That is going to be very necessary from here on out, you understand?”

“Of course,” Barry said, drawn into Len’s orbit just by having him close again and taking in his _smell_.

“Urg. Maybe I’ll see about sprucing up this place,” Lisa said, twirling Cisco’s card in her fingers and heading for the door.

“Um, Cisco said he’s off the rest of today,” Barry stopped her, to which all three of the others looked at him in annoyance—for varying reasons. “If that…matters.”

“Then I guess I’ll just get air,” she said and walked right out without another glance back.

She didn’t want to give Barry a chance no matter how much he proved himself or tried to be helpful or friendly. He had his work cut out for him there.

“Mick, take a shift if Roy needs help,” Len said and took Barry’s arm to lead _him_ to the door as well.

“Boss?” Mick questioned.

“I’m taking Barry to see Amaya. We can walk back.”

Barry grimaced at the thought of being out in the sun that long, though the pack home was only a mile or two away.

“You have to get used to it,” Len told him.

“I know. Thanks again for the shades, Mick!” Barry called back.  

Mick grunted noncommittally, but that was better than Lisa’s dismissal, and Barry and Len exited into the sunshine.

 

XXXXX

 

“You don’t have any tattoos,” Barry said after they’d been walking a few minutes.

“Your point?”

“I just realized, since I saw you…you know.”

“Naked?”

“Y-yeah,” Barry stammered, flushing that lovely shade of scarlet. “Just seems strange. Mick and Roy have tattoos.”

Roy had many actually, even some up his neck, so they were visible despite what he might wear. Mick had chosen to cover his scars with tattoos, little by little over the years, something Len had debated too but never followed through on. Mick’s ink could mostly be seen at his wrists or peeking out of his shirt collar if it was low enough.

“The parlor is a side business,” Len reminded Barry. “Why so surprised? You don’t have any tattoos either.”

“Yes, I do,” Barry said, then glanced briefly from beneath his sunglasses at Len and down his body. “You just haven’t seen enough of me yet.”

The tease almost made Len purr, deeply curious now, because no, he had not seen all of Barry, though a few opportune moments had passed by. Their rut on the floor had only been a connection below the waist, and he hadn’t snuck a peek last night when they were changing for bed.

Shaking his head to focus on the task at hand, Len reminded himself that Barry was a tool, an asset, maybe a future pack member and ally if this didn’t turn disastrous, but he could not be a lover. Len’s word was something he never revoked, not when he stood to gain so much from an alliance with Ray. He had to stay true to his word and not give into temptation again.

“Why do you think you held it together so well with Mr. Ramon?” Len asked to shift the conversation elsewhere. It was a lovely day walking the several blocks from the tattoo parlor to the den.

Not that Barry could enjoy it much. He winced any time he glanced too directly at the sun, though the new shades did their job. Len was surprised Mick had offered them. Altruism wasn’t one of his strong suits. 

“You know Cisco?” Barry asked, seeming surprised that Len had caught the surname.

“I know my neighbors, human or shifter.”

“Well, um… You obviously don’t have a problem with your packmates dating humans, so I thought—”

“Let’s stay on topic,” Len cut him off. He didn’t want to think about the sparkle in Lisa’s eyes at the diminutive young man trying to ask her out. She knew as well as he did that choosing a partner, long or short term, required careful scrutiny when they were sure to eventually discover she was a seer. She hated that, but it was dangerous to be dismissive when the wrong person finding out what she was could prove catastrophic.

“Part of it was just me,” Barry said, “but also a little of you, I think, and maybe Cisco too. I snapped back even though I almost lost myself. My dad used to have that effect on me.”

“Your father?”

“You just always felt comfortable around him, you know?”

Len did not know. He’d never had a pleasant relationship with his father.

“He helped keep everything clear. Mom, too. She was always so understanding, always got me, always knew how to make things better. Maybe it was because Cisco and I hit it off so well. I’ve never had many friends, but he made me feel that way too—centered. And when I look at you…”

Their eyes met as Barry turned his head, slowing their steps and halting his words.

“Um…sorry, what were we talking about?” He averted his gaze with another swath of color filling his cheeks.

It was not going to be easy to deny an indulgence in Barry. Never had Len imagined he would want anything from a vampire, let alone so much. “You’ve recognized a few things that ground you. That’s good. Now, let’s make sure we stay ahead of everything else.”

Leading them through the gate, Len pointed the way to their journey’s end.

“We’re back at the house?” Barry looked about in surprise.

“Back entrance. Leads straight to Amaya’s workshop.”

“Your shaman, right? Nate’s…mate?”

Len smiled at his attempt to find the correct lingo. “I think he still says ‘girlfriend’, but eventually, likely.”

The back gate had a keycode, as did the main entrance and the separate entrance leading to Amaya’s workshop, which was sectioned off from the wine cellar and storage. She was shaman, healer, and alchemist in one.

Len knew each code by heart, of course, everyone in the inner circle did, but he punched them in swiftly and out of Barry’s view for now. Their admittance into the workshop alerted Amaya with a gentle chime and security footage broadcast below.

“I’ve never had the pleasure of speaking with a vampire.” She greeted them at the bottom of the stairs, tight curls braided against her head and held back with a colorful headband. She wore many adornments, bangles, hoops in her ears, but it was her totem that stood out, an amulet with a pendant like the face of a panther to signify her deep connection to her ancestors. Just like magic users and seers, not everyone had a knack for the skillsets she wielded so naturally.

“H-hi,” Barry said, accepting the hand Amaya offered him. “I’m Barry Allen. You’ve never met a vampire before?”

“I’ve met them,” Amaya said.

“But never talked?” Barry repeated, his slow nod indicating he soon came to understand what she was implying.

“Never talked, no. Come, I’ve been expecting you.” She kept her hold on his hand and led him farther into the workshop.

Taking up more than half the basement level, the room seamlessly mixed together modern technology, runes and potions like an apothecary out of a renaissance fair, and the local magic shop on a street corner—only this magic was real. The technology portion was where the doctor/healer part played most of its role, including a hospital bed that Amaya had Barry sit on.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to examine you. Nothing invasive. You’re welcome to ask me anything you wish to understand what you are now and what I hope to discover.”

“Thank you,” Barry said, relaxing under her easy bedside manner. Even Mick was calm around Amaya.

Len hung back to watch as Barry complied with everything she asked, allowing her to take a sample of blood, check his vitals—though he no longer had a pulse, he still had blood pressure since the blood flowed of its own accord—and then cast a few runic spells, only some of which Len recognized.

It was when Barry pulled up his sleeves for her that he saw the first sign of tattoos, one on each forearm from wrist to elbow. Almost like black pillars, the left displayed a white skull in the center while the right bore a fist holding scales like the symbol of justice.

Len smirked as he recognized the images. They probably hadn’t gotten questioned in prison, but he knew their real origin-- _Warhammer_. Barry really was a nerd, just like Len. He wondered where else Barry might be hiding some ink.

Eventually, when Amaya drew a rune on Barry's chest, had him drink a concoction, and told him to lie back a while to allow the magic to work, Len gestured her to him.

“I have reason to believe his mother was a seer,” he whispered. He would have worried about vampiric eavesdropping, but Barry seemed preoccupied with the workshop.

“I caught signs of that,” Amaya agreed, “as well as something else, something that isn’t usually detectable, but the lingering trail was strong enough for me to do another test, the one that’s working through him now.”

“For what?” Len glanced at Barry curiously.

“One parent was a seer. His mother, you said? Then I believe his father was a Focus.”

“What?” Len’s eyes snapped back to her. “This city hasn’t had a Focus in generations. They’re even rarer than seers. The only thing rarer—”

“Is a Null. I know. If the rune I placed over his heart glows red, I’ll know I’m right. It also makes me curious.” She smiled as though not nearly as shaken by this as Len was, but then, she rarely lost her calm. “The signs that made me try this? It’s like magical residue. I hadn’t noticed before now, but it appears to be on you as well.”

“You can’t mean…” Len’s mother was a seer. Which meant… “My father was a Focus?” Someone able to bring out the _most_ in people, though not always the best—their powers, their strengths. It could be a great tool and a terrible weapon.

“We can test that sometime soon, when I have you alone,” she said.

Len nodded, feeling mildly numb, like he always did when there was too much to process. Easier than losing his cool. “Why would signs show now?” he asked.

“If I had to guess, I’d say it’s you two being around each other.” She nodded back at Barry. “Two rare creatures, both sons of a seer and a Focus, who knows what might come of that.”

Barry’s sire knew. He knew for certain, and that made the situation far more dangerous.

Len told himself not to get excited or concerned. Amaya could be wrong. But as soon as she went back to Barry and told him to sit up, the glow of _red_ from the center of his chest was unmistakable as the rune shone like a beacon—in the shape of a lightning bolt.

“What does it mean?” Barry asked, looking down in awe.

Len caught Amaya’s eye and shook his head. He knew she didn’t like to lie, but the situation was dire enough without telling Barry everything.

“It further proves how unique you are,” she said simply, “which I suspected. You are exceptional among vampires, Barry, a rare set of DNA, let’s say, which is likely the cause of your enhanced abilities.”

“Did my sire know that? Is that why he chose me?”

“Perhaps. I’ll need to continue my tests, but in the meantime, I’ve learned everything I can. Most of what comes next is waiting.” She eased a hand down the small of his back, nudging him to hop down from the table. He did so and drew down his sleeves to cover his tattoos.  

“That’s it, just wait for my sire to make a move?” He looked at Len in question.

“There is one other thing,” Amaya said, retrieving another concoction fit inside a small vial. “I’d like you to take a little of this each day. Just a sip should be enough for about five days until it’s gone. By then, once you’re nearing your next feeding time, it’ll make a difference.”

“So I don’t get hungry?” Barry asked eagerly

“Nothing can curb your hunger,” Len said, knowing what the potion was, since he was the one who'd asked her to make it. “But most young vampires lack the enzymes necessary to close their victims’ wounds. They cause those they feed from to hemorrhage and die. Once you’re older, you’ll gain the ability to better coagulate the blood and leave as though you’d never been there, even closing the wound entirely, but for now, this should speed up the process.”

A familiar look of nausea crossed Barry’s features. “When I fed from you…”

“As a shifter, I heal faster than humans. I was fine.”

Barry nodded, but Len could tell he was experiencing a new wave of guilt.

“Whoever you bite next,” Amaya said, “even a human, will also be fine. As long as you don’t drain them dry.” She smiled again, meaning to lighten the mood.

Barry did not look lightened. “Thanks,” he said, clutching the vial tightly. “Is this stuff for sure or will I need to test it?”

“No need to test anything so soon. It’ll be a few days before you start too feel hungry again. Once you do, let us know. We’ll conduct some experiments to make sure everything is safe.”

“Okay. How—”

Len’s cell phone went off, disrupting Barry’s question.

It was Mick.  

“What?” Len answered.

“On my way to you. Still with Amaya?”

“We’re in the workshop. Why?”

“Alert came through from the Shelter. Shawna says her grunts reported two bastards from different races gettin’ riled up, but she’s across town. I know how you like to handle infighting personally.”

Len did, because keeping the peace was the cornerstone of his reign, especially between races. He couldn’t let anyone go unchecked. “Meet us out back. We’ll be up momentarily.” He hung up and turned to Barry. “Problem at the Shelter.”

“Do you want me to go back?” Barry gestured through the basement toward the wine cellar.

That would be the smart call, but Barry might be the new norm, and Len still had a mystery to solve.

“You’re coming with me. Better to rip the bandage off now. Miss Jiwe, always a pleasure.” Len nodded to Amaya his thanks, then seized Barry by the arm and headed for the stairs. “You already know I launder money through that tattoo shop, among other locales. Now you’ll get to see why.”

 

XXXXX

 

Barry didn’t know what he expected. The Shelter wasn’t like a refugee camp. Maybe more like a homeless shelter, but a good one, a clean one, with plenty of food and beds for all. It was still cramped, still busy with various rooms and a common room or two, but it wasn’t a slum. Len clearly cared deeply for his people and wanted to give them everything he could.

Even illegally acquired funding.  

The difference here compared to other places Barry had been so far was that he could smell that he wasn’t anywhere near humans. Each whiff was of a different sort, some recognizable as wolf or rat or cat, since he was used to those now, but others were brand new.

The additional difference was that everyone they passed here could also smell _him_ and stared in wonder or horror that he was trailing behind their King.

“Ouph,” Len grunted ahead of Barry after a blur of a young teen plowed into him, only to look up angrily and then startled once she realized who she’d barreled into. “Why, if it isn’t the lovely Miss Kane. And where are you off to in such a hurry?”

The girl had a shock of pink in her brunette hair and dark eyeliner to offset the cherubic nature of her face. “Mr. Snart… I didn’t see you.”

“Remarkable though it may seem, the old adages still apply.” Len crouched down closer to her height. “Look before you leap, my dear. Or before you leave a room. But no harm done. Now, are you running toward or away from something, because—”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” She looked flustered and frustrated at being stopped by an adult, let alone _the_ authority figure around here. Barry got the impression that if she’d run into anyone other than Len, she would have torn them a new one. “I just want to be alone right now.”

“By all means.” Len gestured the way she’d been headed. “But if you need anything, you know my people are around.”

She nodded, and for a split second when she moved past Barry and glanced up at him, he’d swear he saw a flash of slit pupils and stripes along her cheeks.

“Frankie Kane,” Len said after she’d gone. “An orphan. A tiger, actually. Too young to be on her own, so we’d prefer another family take her in, but we don’t force adoption here. Not all the races get along, and not all non-tiger shifters are willing to consider such an arrangement. She’s growing frustrated at not having a home.”

Barry knew what that felt like. Even with Eobard, he’d often felt like he didn’t belong. “She can stay here though, right? Like Axel did?”

Len tilted his head at him. “She can. Axel thrived here, made friends, didn’t mourn long about not having a family of his own. _We_ became his family. But Frankie is different. She feels alienated, unwanted.”

“You know a lot about a single shifter in your city,” Barry said, also having noticed how kindly Len had treated her when he could have snapped or been more imposing.

“It’s my business to know a lot about everyone,” Len said. “Frankie needs a home, not the Shelter.”

“What about—”

Barry’s thought was cut off by the sounds of angry shouting coming from the room Frankie had exited.

Len swiftly entered and wasted no time locating the source of the disturbance. Right on his heels, Barry recognized immediately what the problem was.

Two men—beasts, _shifters_ —both almost fully to Stage Three, which was familiar to Barry for the wolf on the right, but the _lizard_ on the left was new, like some half-dragon out of a fantasy novel sporting a tail and beak and scales.

“Cold-blooded bastard!” the wolf growled.

“Mongrel!” the lizard hissed back.

Now, Barry understood why Frankie had run.

“Enough!” Len shouted, calling the attention of everyone present.

A few others were in the room, still human looking, so Barry wasn’t sure what they were.

“I assume both of you are new to Central City?” Len ignored everyone but the brawlers, who’d had claws dug into each other’s shoulders, ready to tear each other apart, but now they faltered, features reforming into something more human as they recognized who had caught them. “Do you know who I am? Would you like to call _me_ a mongrel?” He focused on the lizard, who looked somewhat short and average in human form. “We don’t appreciate slurs in this city. Not for anyone or any race.” He snapped toward the wolf.

“My apologies, Mr. Snart.” The lizard bowed his head first. “That was my temper talking.”

“I can be forgiving of that,” Len said, “but not if it happens again. If you want asylum in this city, you follow my rules and way of life, and that means everyone is part of the same pack. You can stay with your own kind if you prefer, go about your normal business and cultural practices, but we are a community first. Understood?”

“Yes, alpha.” The lizard nodded.

“Mr. Snart…”

“You have something to add?” Len glared once more at the wolf.

“Sir, these snakes—”

“I’m sorry,” Len spoke over him, “perhaps I am hard of hearing, or maybe that’s you. Because if you cannot coexist with the Lizard tribe then you can seek asylum elsewhere. I hear Bludhaven is lovely this time of year.”

Barry had grown up in Gotham; Bludhaven wasn’t lovely any time of year.

Both men seemed cowed now, but Len didn’t look ready to leave them. He backed up to address Barry, ignoring the way a few vigilant bystanders had picked up Barry's scent and were staring.

“Don’t wander off. I need to be sure a few safe guards are in place in case these two erupt again,” Len said, and then he was moving away, taking the two men with him, and leaving Barry alone with a bunch of shifters who clearly didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

They could smell him as well as anyone else. It was almost the way Barry remembered feeling when growing up, how people avoided him, only this was so much more potent.

The room wasn’t large but housed half a dozen people, another common room, filled with chairs and sofas and a TV, even a small play area with a few children upset from trying to enjoying themselves while the two men had been arguing.

Barry tried to smile and wave their direction, but a woman came forward to usher them away. None of them understood how their leader, their alpha, could come in here with a vampire. No one was attacking Barry but being shunned was almost worse.

Maybe they had good reason to be afraid of him. Sure, he hadn’t bitten Cisco, but one act of restraint didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.

There was a bench along the wall, padded, like something in a waiting room. Barry moved to it, away from everyone else, and sat to wait for Len. All eyes of those still in the room were on him. He couldn’t blame them. All he had to defend that he wasn’t a threat was a potion to help keep the next person he bit from bleeding out.

It didn’t matter. Barry was used to being an outcast. The members of the pack’s inner circle who had accepted him so far would have to be enough.

“You’re a vampire,” a young boy said, startling Barry by his sudden presence as he sat beside him without the same wariness as the others.

“Um…yeah. I am.”

“And you’re marked by this city’s alpha.” He looked about the same age as Frankie, maybe a year or two younger with short brunette hair and wisdom in his eyes like he was older than he seemed.

“Marked?” Barry questioned. “Sorry, I’m still learning, but I hope that doesn’t mean what it usually does with dogs.”

The boy laughed, betraying that he wasn’t entirely too old for his looks. He was definitely a wolf though, Barry could tell. “It means you smell like you’ve been around him without any fear or aggression. He trusts you. Which is really weird. My dad doesn’t think much of your alpha.”

“Your dad? Wait, isn’t Len your alpha too?”

“I’m from Starling. We’re just helping out. My stepmom wanted to. Dad would probably be pissed if he knew we were here.”

A chill started to creep into Barry as he looked at the boy and thought he recognized a feature or two. “Who are you?”

“My name’s William.” He hesitated, but then reached out to shake Barry’s hand like a proper gentleman. “William Queen.”

 

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

At his core, Len was an introvert who acted like an extrovert. He liked the attention of being in authority, being someone everyone looked to and admired. He wasn't shy. But he didn’t like to be crowded, swarmed, touched, and at the end of it all, he needed time to decompress.

The Shelter was always exhausting because of that, but especially when he had to make his presence known to prevent further unrest.

Of all the tribes, Lizard and Wolf were most at odds just about anywhere. Not dogs and cats, like people might joke, but the two races who held the most cities. Each worried the other would try to take over completely if given the chance, rather than taking the time to listen, see where they had similarities, and seek peace and cohabitation instead of letting the law of the tribe dictate everything.

Not here, not in Len’s city. Lewis had been traditional that way. Wolves on top, always, and the other races should be fodder beneath their feet. It got under Len’s skin whenever anyone acted that way, because it reminded him of how easily hatred could fester without reason.

Just like the instinct of every shifter to hate Barry before they knew him.

He hadn’t gone far, back in the same common room, sitting on a bench with a young boy, maybe ten years old, which would have pleasantly surprised Len if it wasn’t—

 _Shit_. William Queen.  

Leave it to Barry to make friends with the one boy he should have stayed farthest away from. What was William even doing at the Shelter?

It was just as Len got within earshot that a beautiful blond woman appeared to join them. Felicity Smoak—Oliver's wife. Perfect. Len had met her on several occasions. Strong-willed, not one to bow to authority, let alone to her husband’s, but all in all a good sort, if a little foolhardy.

And _human_. Len saw the truth of that strike Barry immediately, as Felicity sat on his other side, bookending him with William.

“Stepmom, right?” Barry said as he shook Felicity's hand, and Len hugged the wall to eavesdrop out of sight. “We were just talking about you checking the conditions here. I'm Barry.”

“Nice to meet you. Something on my face?” Felicity teased.

“Sorry. It's just… You're human.”

“I will never get over that being an oddity.” She snickered.

“And you're married to Oliver Queen?”

“Yeah…” She sounded as though she expected a bigoted barrage next.

“Then why is he so against Len and Central City?” Barry erupted instead. “The whole point is to be inclusive! I thought other cities were against intermingling.”

“They usually are,” Felicity said as she relaxed, “but Ray wants to change that in Starling. He’s the one who encouraged Oliver to pursue me, even though he knew it would cause a stir. Central City is the perfect example of what Ray wants to cultivate back home. The _only_ example. Problem is Oliver doesn't trust Snart's motivations.”

Len couldn't buy this sort of intel. Barry was proving useful already.

“He assumes takeover instead of merger?”

“’Fraid so. That's why I figured helping here would shed some light on things, so Oliver can stop expecting the worst. Nobody has the rawest opinion of their alpha like the people at the Shelter.”

“And?” Barry asked.

“Verdict’s still out, but nobody hates Snart. He seems fair and involved and generally liked by everyone we've talked to. But people also agree he can be pretty conniving when he wants to be.”

Barry chuckled rather than turn defensive, sounding even fond when he said, “He'd always put his own pack first, I think, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want what's best for both cities.”

“My thought exactly,” Felicity said. “Oliver’s the one who needs to be convinced though, not me.”

“What do you think, William?” Barry addressed the boy, who'd been listening intently. “I'm new here so you probably know more than me. How's this Shelter compared to the one in Starling?” He didn’t patronize but spoke just as he would to an adult.

“It’s about the same size, I guess.” William looked around to freshly judge the place. “We have more people though.”

“Why’s that?”

“More tribal wars happen in Starling.” He shrugged.

“Like _gang_ wars?”

“Basically.”                              

A startled chuckle left Barry. “That happens all the time around you and you don’t even seem phased.”

“William’s a tough one,” Felicity said proudly.

“I can see that. So tell me,” Barry scrunched lower to get more on his level, “what do you do when you're not checking up on things for your dad? I wanna say…4th grade?”

“That’s right. We’re studying the scientific method. I’ve been trying to come up with a good science fair project for next month.”

“Really?” Barry rubbed his hands together as if honestly excited. “You so ran into the right man. I used to be a CSI. Do you know what that is?”

“Sure, you collected evidence and did tests for police?”

“Yep. So I had to study a lot of science and math in school, and I was already really into investigation when I was your age. For my 4th grade science fair, I did an eye witness study.”

“What’s that?”

“You get about twenty people for a good sample size, set up a controlled scenario where you and only you know all the facts—like have someone run into a room and steal something in front of the group—then right after, you question all of them about what they saw and what they remember. Then again a few hours later. Then again a few _days_ later, or even weeks, to see how much they get right the longer it’s been.

“In fact,” Barry glanced around at the people who seemed less wary of him now that they saw him interacting with someone normally, “doing that here at the Shelter would be perfect since you’re gonna be around for a while. I bet there are tons of people here who’d help a fellow shifter.”

“You really think so? That would be so cool!” William beamed, but his enthusiasm dimmed when he turned to Felicity. “Do you think Dad would let me?”

“ _William_.”

Speak of the devil.

“Get away from him!” Oliver barreled into the room like a force of nature from the other entrance, the warning glow in his eyes making everyone in his path part and move away. “Felicity, what were you thinking bringing William here?” He hauled his son off the bench, looming over a startled and hunched Barry, which was Len’s cue to come out of hiding.

“ _Oliver_ ,” Felicity confronted him first, “it’s not a big deal. We were just talking.”

“Now Snart’s using you to _spy_ on us?” Oliver ignored her to snarl at Barry.

“I-I wasn’t—”

“That’s enough, Mr. Queen.” Len descended on yet another brewing fight. “Barry merely accompanied me to handle a dispute between tribes. I had no idea your son and wife were visiting.”

Oliver shifted his glare to Len at his approach, keeping his son behind him away from Barry, and backing up to move Felicity with him. “I never want to see that _thing_ near my family again or I’ll be returning him to you in pieces.”

“Thing?” Felicity looked to Barry in alarm, maybe finally taking note of his sunglasses. “ _You’re_ the twinkie?”

“The…what?” Barry blinked at her.

“Sorry, my word, not Oliver’s,” Felicity said. Oliver had obviously explained Barry’s presence without skipping the tawdry details. “An actual vampire…”

“I wasn’t trying to hide,” Barry said. “William knew—”

“Do not say my son’s name.”

“ _Dad_.” William pushed away from Oliver to move back toward Barry, much to Oliver’s horror. “Barry is nice. We were just talking about my science fair project. He’s not scary.”

“Then he’s lying to you. Or tricking you with mind control. That’s what they do.” Oliver growled, eyes glowing brighter at Barry, before they centered coldly back on his son. “That’s how they killed your mother. Or did you forget?”

Len knew that story. Days after William was born, Oliver’s first wife had been drained by vampires. Children, pregnant women, and those who’d recently given birth tasted especially delicious apparently, or so the legends said. Oliver’s wife had wanted to visit her family away from the city, and while he was out with William, the vampires took out her entire clan by first swarming them with humans they’d enthralled.

They drained the humans eventually too, though Len heard Oliver tracked the vampires down afterward and tore them to pieces with his teeth. A decade and a second wife later, that vengeance didn’t seem to be enough.

“I think my parents were killed by vampires too,” Barry said, looking to William in sympathy and at Oliver for understanding. “I’m trying to be better than what you think of me. Len is putting a lot of faith—”

“I don’t care what he thinks,” Oliver said and grabbed his son again—not harsh, never harsh, but even that simple act made Len’s hackles raise on instinct. “We’re leaving, and you are not coming back here.”

“He can’t trick me, Dad.” William still resisted. “Vampires can’t trick shifters.”

“They can the weak-willed and the young, and _he_ can enthrall anyone,” Oliver hissed. “He is worse than a normal vampire, do you understand? And you are going to stay away from him.”

“I wasn’t—” Barry started to rise, too fast, too hostile, however unintentional, but as Len dove forward, he wasn’t fast enough to stop Oliver’s lunge.

Slamming Barry back into the wall, Oliver held him firm with a forearm pressed to his throat, knocking the sunglasses from his face. That in turn triggered Barry, and Len definitely wasn’t fast enough to stop _him_.

“Just _listen_ to me!” Barry roared and pushed Oliver so hard, he sent him flying halfway across the room, only just barely missing taking Len or even William along with him.

Barry tumbled back onto the bench, face changed to yellow eyes and fangs bared, but not vicious. In an instant, he was terrified of what he’d done.

“I-I’m sorry…” He looked to Oliver, then to Felicity and William. “I’m _sorry_.”

So much for the people at the Shelter warming to him.

“Mr. Queen.” Len walked slowly toward Oliver and extended a hand down to him, which Oliver took, maybe only because he was still gasping from having the air knocked out of his lungs. “I’d ask you to not start a scene around my people again, especially not here.”

Rage tempered but only slightly, Oliver glared at Len as he caught his breath. “Keep him away from my family,” he said, and this time, when he collected William, the boy went without resistance, though there was conflict on his face as he was led away.

“It was nice to meet you, Barry,” Felicity said, stilted though it was.

Then Len and Barry were alone, because everyone else in the common room made scarce too.

“I’m sorry,” Barry said again, eyes and fangs fading and seeming close to tears.

Len reached down to pick up his sunglasses and handed them back to him. “Let’s get out of here.”

 

XXXXX

 

It wasn't the best end to their day, and who knew how Oliver would relay the story to Ray, but unfortunate though the incident had been, Len focused on the good.

Barry had reacted to defend himself but nothing more. It could have been worse. Len hated how that seemed to sum up everything lately though.

It could have been _worse_.

At least the remaining pack members were eager to meet Barry, everyone gathered for dinner like usual, which Barry dutifully assisted with, even helping set the table despite not being able to eat. The pack took turns making meals and cleaning up during the week. Tonight, Sam and Rosa made paella.

“It's so weird not being hungry,” Barry said, sunglasses off now with the sun long set. “This looks so good, but it’s not appetizing to me at all. I just don’t want anything.”

“You better not,” Rosa teased. “Some of the pieces of meat at this table are off limits.”

“Only some?” Axel snickered. 

“You don’t have to stay, Barry,” Len said from his spot at the head of the table, Lisa at his right and Barry at his left, pushing Mick one place down. “I merely wanted to introduce you, but given you no longer require food—”

“I want to stay,” Barry insisted, “if no one minds. I still have so many questions.”

Sam and Rosa were curious, never as stereotypically xenophobic as Lizards were thought to be. Mark and Shawna, however, looked on more warily across from Barry. It was a large table to fit twelve—with a thirteenth squeezed in.

“Just so long as you don't ask which race tastes better,” Shawna said with a grin.

Barry blushed, maybe because he'd only _tasted_ Len. “Everything on the shifter side seems so structured. Is there a vampire hierarchy too?”

“More loners,” Roy offered, “or only two.”

“Like Sith?” Barry asked, then uttered a hasty, “Sorry.”

“No, good analogy!” Nate said. “Always two there are,” he mimicked Yoda briefly, to which Amaya smiled but several others rolled their eyes. “Master and, well…fledgling. They're not known for sharing well so you don’t tend to see groups.”

“And we usually kill them on sight,” Mark reminded them.

“R-right.” Barry’s smile flickered. “For shifters then, is there a central council or just each city's pack?”

“Just packs, but also racial tribes onto themselves,” Len explained. “Like countries with unique heritages, but no…United Federation.”

Barry laughed, the smile cracking onto his face again like Len had hoped. “Now you’re mixing universes.”

A kick to Len's shin snapped his attention to his sister. _Brat_.

“Heard you had a couple run-ins with Queen,” Sam said. “Both here and at the Shelter.” His spies must have told him, and he was testing Barry’s reaction.

“Queen’s still pissy, huh?” Axel said first. “I bet if he got to know Barry, he’d change his mind.”

“I don’t know about that.” Barry blushed again, disarming in his awkwardness as the only one at the table without food to hide behind.

“Is he putting a spell on us, Jiwe?” Mark asked, half serious as though disturbed by Barry's likability.

“Only if you count natural charm as a spell,” Amaya said. “One of the runes I placed on Barry's palm would glow if he attempted to enthrall us.”

“Really?” Barry looked at her in surprise. This was the first Len had heard of that too.

“Forgive me,” she bowed her head, “I only wondered if you might give away some treachery, but I haven't seen so much as a spark. It is my job to protect the pack, you understand.” She nodded to Len.

He always gave her full autonomy and wasn’t about to retract that now.

“I’m grateful,” Barry said, looking at his palms in wonder. “I don't want to sway anyone, accidentally or otherwise. Which—"

“It’s the right one.”

He stared in renewed fascination, but nothing was visible now, other than the peek of one of his tattoos.

Those first meeting Barry, if they'd had reservations, relaxed. It was only Lisa who frowned.

After dinner, there was time for everyone to socialize before some would need sleep and others would head out for night shifts. Only Nate and Amaya left early, but then, they’d already bonded with Barry.

Len held back for the most part, observing the way Barry got into the good graces of nearly every pack member, even Mark, who despite being a tiger and bowing to Len’s authority, was the most alpha among them and didn’t like anyone infringing on his territory.

“How’d you fake that evidence exactly?” he asked after Barry explained about Blackgate.

“I was trying to put away a guilty man,” Barry said.

“I wouldn’t use the knowledge for anything nefarious.”

“Liar,” Hartley said from a nearby chair, his two most dutiful rat companions sleeping on the armrest. The group had moved to the living room, some in chairs or sofas or snuggled together on the floor. They were a very physical pack, aside from Len, Lisa, and Mick. “Never trust a word out of that mouth.”

“Calm yourself, Rathaway,” Mark said without bite. “Come on, Barry. What about trade secrets between friends? I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Clapping his hands together, he parted them slowly, creating a crackle of lightning between his palms that grew brighter and more pronounced as he stretched the energy like between two warring Tesla coils.

Barry scooted to the edge of his seat to watch. The only magic he’d seen so far was Amaya’s runes.

“Maybe you have the gift too,” Mark said, swirling the lightning into a tighter ball. “Shall we find out?”

He threw it— _at_ Barry—and while Len lurched to the edge of his seat too, Barry’s reaction of raising a hand to shield himself proved enough to catch the ball of lightning like a lifetime practitioner.

Mark gaped. He’d likely not put much power into the electricity, but that Barry could catch it was as unique as everything else about him.

Turning forward with a quiver, Barry realized what he’d done with equal wonder and pivoted his hand to stare at the ball of light. It floated above his palm, completely under his control, and with a simple closing of his fist, it vanished.

“Wow,” he said, like a child being told his first fairytale, only the magic was real.

“Huh,” Mark said, but Len wasn’t amused.

“Do not do that again,” he said plainly.

“Sorry, boss. Couldn’t resist. You are something, ain’t ya?” Mark said to Barry. “Strong, centered, and attuned enough to dispel a charge from a magister. Good thing you’re on our side.”

Lisa left the room then with a not so subtle huff. Len wasn’t looking forward to dealing with her resistance on the matter. Maybe a date with Ramon wouldn’t be the worst thing to appease her temper.

“Stop being rude, Mark,” Rosa said, crawling over to Barry from her spot on the floor with Sam, since Lizards preferred to stretch out wherever it was coolest. She took Barry’s hand, the right one with a hidden rune that had caught the lightning. Running her thumbs across his palm, she said, “Not the soldier type. I’d know. A hard worker for sure, but I’d say…lover more than a fighter?”

Barry blushed prettily again, but then Sam crawled over too.

“Don’t hog the new guy, babe. Tell me, Barry, how are you at blending in?”

“Um…I used to think I was invisible,” Barry said, “but I guess it’s hard to hide when you can all smell me.” He gently tugged his hand away from Rosa since she hadn’t stopped fondling it.  

“Maybe more of a distraction then…” Sam hummed.

“Stop trying to find uses for him,” Len said.

“For his benefit, boss. You want to fit in, right?” Sam asked Barry. “Join the team? Or do you really like doing ink with Roy all day?”

“Hey, am I supposed to be offended by that?” Roy flicked Mark off, which made Shawna laugh, since her relationship with Mark was similarly confrontational despite them sleeping together.

“Well…” Barry glanced around before centering his gaze back on Sam, “you’re Spymaster, right?”

“Something like that.”

“Exactly that.” Rosa nudged his arm.

“I’m an investigator,” Barry said. “I love that more than anything—figuring out the truth, solving the impossible. And right now, I’m the impossible. I’m the best clue we have to figure out who my sire is, so maybe all of you can help me sort that out, together.”

“I appreciate the initiative,” Len said, since he hadn’t thought much about that yet. “Any ideas on where you’d like to start?”

“The pack members with the most ears to the ground are Sam, Axel, and Roy, right? So I can shadow all of them, do shifts at the tattoo shop but also follow Sam and Axel too, learn what I can to see if anything stands out as out of the ordinary leading to what happened to me.”

“Oh, I like him,” Rosa said. “Cute and smart.” She stuck out her tongue at Barry playfully to show its lizard fork, which he took in fascinated like he had everything else he’d seen today.

Until a cat, well timed and demanding attention, hopped onto his lap to distract him. The little imp didn’t like sharing, apparently, appearing in his smallest form, like an American shorthair in light grey with black stripes, not quite the same as a tabby cat.

“Where did you come from?” Barry grinned as he stroked the cat’s head. “Wait… _Axel?_ Oh my god, you’re so cute!” He nuzzled the cat to his chest, which made it harder than ever to imagine him as the innate killer he’d been turned into.

“Axel,” Hartley chided his boyfriend, “if you turn back to normal sitting naked in Barry’s lap, I’m sleeping alone tonight.”

Barry giggled as Axel jumped down to hop onto Hartley’s lap instead. The shameless attempt at an apology did manage to wrangle a smile from him though.

“Come here, baby,” Rosa moved from Barry’s chair to Hartley’s, “you snuggle Hart all the time. Who’s my pretty kitty?” She patted her lap like one would with any feline, and after a loving buck against Hartley’s chest, Axel jumped down to settle on her lap next.

“Traitor,” Hartley scoffed.

“Alright now, some of us have night shifts to get to,” Sam said, giving Axel’s head a stroke before kissing Rosa on the cheek in farewell.

“And sleep shifts,” Mick grumbled from the sofa, stretched out with his eyes already closed.

It was later than Len realized, as Sam and Shawna both stood to make their nightly rounds. Much as Barry was quickly becoming part of the pack, Len had to get him settled downstairs, at least for a few more nights.

“Time for bed, Barry,” he said as he rose. “And would someone please do something about these decorations?” Apparently, no one had volunteered to clear away how Halloween had thrown up all over their home.

“Tomorrow,” Hartley said. “We’re allowed November 1st.”

Len pursed his lips but didn’t protest. After a round of goodnights, he led Barry from the room.

It shouldn’t be this easy after barely twenty-four hours. The rest wouldn’t be easy, not dealing with Ray or Oliver, and definitely not solving their mystery. Len needed to remember that.

“What if one of the couples adopted Frankie?” Barry said as they made their way down into the basement. “There are enough rooms here, right?”

“There are. To be honest, I’d considered Mark and Shawna, given they’re both large cats, Mark an actual tiger like Frankie. Unless you were thinking Hartley and Axel, and then—”

“No, I actually meant Sam and Rosa.”

“Oh?” Len hadn’t thought outside the race, which he knew was silly, especially given his stance.

Lizards were often ostracized among other shifters since they were the only ones with scales instead of fur, but Sam and Rosa had never been left out among his lieutenants. They were affectionate and further along in their relationship than Mark and Shawna since they were married. And Hartley and Axel should never be trusted with a child, not until Axel stopped acting like one.

“You may have a point. I’ll consider it,” Len said, watching Barry reach for the cellar door at the bottom of the stairs, which revealed another peek of one of his tattoos. “I have a question for you though.”

“Yeah?”

“Which is it then? Inquisitor or Arbiter?”

Barry nearly tripped his way inside the room. “You know Warhammer?”

“Why not?” Len followed him inside but hung back by the door. “It has a rich history of fantasy and sci-fi. Let’s see now, both those factions are on the human side. Inquisitors are investigators…” That would be the cross with a skull. “…and arbiters are like the police.” The cross with a fist and scales. “Quite fitting given your previous profession. And I’m sure they looked cool in prison.” He bobbed an eyebrow, which made Barry chuckle.

“If any of those guys knew these were symbols from a tabletop game… I used to paint models, plan out scenarios, read the lore.” He ducked his head, but when he grinning to himself, it didn’t seem to be out of embarrassment.

“What’s that smile for?”

“N-nothing. I’m just not used to meeting any hot dorks.”

“Did you just call the alpha of Central City a dork?” Len crossed his arms in challenge.

“Maybe.” Another chuckle.

Even two yards apart with Barry deeper inside the room, the green of his eyes was entrancing.

Len shifted his gaze to Barry’s palm, but there was no glow. He held Len captive all on his own. “I’ll have you know this house is filled with nothing but dorks, they just won’t all admit it. But I should leave you to it. I promise I won’t keep you down here much longer.” He offered a nod of farewell and turned to go.

“You’re leaving? You’re going to make me sleep down here alone?” The plaintiveness in Barry’s voice was only slightly less moving than the emotion in his eyes when Len looked back. “Even in Blackgate I had a cellmate.”

Just what Len needed—his prisoner quoting the Geneva convention at him when he was supposed to be firm, cold, never budging if there was a threat to his people, no matter how alluring the messenger.

Maybe he understood why Lisa remained skeptical, because he couldn’t refuse Barry.

“I want to give it a few days, maybe weeks, make sure you can feed without killing. Get a lead on your master, too, if not find him outright, before I allow you a room upstairs. Then you can be on your own, I trust?”

“Absolutely.” Barry nodded.  

“Fine. I’ll stay.” Len closed the door rather than escape through it. “But the same rules apply.”

“You’ll likely kill me in the morning?” Barry said. It was truly unfair how, even as a vampire, he could light up like he had his own personal sun inside him.

“One never knows.”

 

XXXXX

 

It was silly to feel so giddy just from Len teasing him and smiling his direction. Len was off limits. He was engaged and basically royalty. But sleeping in bed beside him made all that harder to remember.

Len fell asleep quickly. He hadn’t peeked for the rest of Barry’s tattoos when they changed for bed, but Barry wouldn’t have minded feeling Len’s eyes on him. He didn’t have many other tattoos, but he wished he could show them to Len someday.

Not as easily lulled to sleep tonight, especially since he required so little now, Barry lay there staring at the darkened ceiling, focusing on the soft purr of Len’s even breaths.

A faint buzz and spark of light reminded him of his cell phone on the nightstand. Len had looked at it before bed. Still, Barry felt guilty as he checked to be certain Len was still asleep before he reached to see what the new message was.

_I’m glad you’re safe, Barry, but please, tell me where you are. When can I see you?_

Barry stared at the screen before replying to his uncle, _Give me a week or two to find my feet._

He left out—and to make sure I don’t kill someone the next time I feed.

_When I’m ready to talk or see you in person, I’ll tell you. You don’t have to worry._

_Oh, Barry_ , _I always worry. You’re my boy. I love you._

 _I love you too_ , _Uncle Eo_ , Barry said and meant it like he always did.

Eobard had been there for him when he had nothing. Maybe too overprotective and sheltering, but he meant well. Part of Barry wished he could call him right now, but he knew that wasn’t a good idea yet.

Setting the phone aside, he closed his eyes and tried to drift off.

 

XXXXX

 

This wasn’t Barry’s jacket, he thought as he pulled the black trench coat tighter around him, like a cloak or comforting blanket against the cold.

He walked through dark streets that were more familiar now though he couldn’t pinpoint where in Central City they belonged. This wasn’t near Len’s streets or any of the places they’d walked earlier that day, but there was some strange sense that Barry had been here before.

 _Finding your place already. That’s good_ , came a resonant voice from the dark. _I knew they’d accept you, Barry. I only want you to be happy._

Barry knew that voice, didn’t he? He would swear he knew it. He stopped to run a hand down the fabric of his jacket, wishing for comforts, for companionship, that didn’t seem to be anywhere around him. Where was the voice? Why wouldn’t it show itself?

_Not yet, Barry. But soon, I promise. You don’t have to be alone anymore. Embrace those around you. You’re entitled to everything you’ve been denied for years. You’ve earned this and everything else I can offer you._

“I…” Barry’s mind felt hazy, like there was something he should focus on but couldn’t.

He did want a home with more voices than only two. He wanted friends and family. He wanted a love all his own, powerful enough to shake the world, even though that thought should have frightened him.

_You will have everything you desire and more, my boy. My lovely boy. So long as you don’t give up. So long as you don’t let Leonard push you away._

“How…?” Barry blinked sluggishly, thinking he could almost make out a shape in front of him at the end of the alley ahead. It was large, looming, powerful looking, and its yellow eyes pierced through the dark, but Barry wanted to see more, to make out the shape of the face he thought was smiling at him. “I don’t know what to do.”

_Of course you do. Show him that you belong together and take what’s yours. Never doubt that you deserve everything your heart desires and nothing will stand in your way._

 

XXXXX

 

A cold sweat gripped Barry as he awoke, unsure of the time since the cellar had no windows. For a few moments, he could barely move. Something in his dream had shaken him, but he couldn’t remember what. It slipped away like wafts of smoke. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be alone.

Shifting onto his side, he saw that this time, Len was there—still sleeping, beautiful beside him. Barry leaned forward to breathe in the scent of Len that was stronger after a night of sweat and dreams and—Barry felt dizzy as a specific scent struck him— _arousal_.

He licked his lips in want of another taste, forgetting Ray and Oliver and everything else telling him he shouldn’t, but as his desires overtook him, he pounced.

Len’s lips tasted better than just the smell, his body feeling incredible beneath Barry’s hands and hips as he crawled on top of him. Len was hard, subtly from the morning, but easily nurtured with a rock of Barry’s hips and dip of his tongue between Len’s lips.

Len stirred with a moan, hands fumbling to grasp Barry and settle on his waist. In the moment, Barry didn’t see his right palm start to glow, as Len kissed him back and awoke with the same ravenous hunger as Barry.

 

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so excited for the twists and turns ahead. :-)
> 
> Thank you all for your comments so far!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I was going to go to bed early tonight...

Len had never had anyone slot into place atop him so perfectly before.

He craved every kiss, every grind of their hips and flail of his hands for purchase on that slim waist and firm ass the same way he needed air. He desperately needed Barry closer and wanted to give him anything his heart desired.

“Make love to me again,” Barry whispered against his lips. “I want to remember everything this time.”

 _Yes_ , Len thought, holding Barry tighter and rolling them across the bed to be on top. He spread Barry's legs apart and ran a rough hand up his thigh. Barry wore sleep pants and shorts beneath, but Len could remedy that.

Thrusting forward, he felt how hard they both were even through the cloth separating them and knew how easily they could rut forward to finish this, but unlike their first night, Len wanted this to last.

He latched onto Barry's neck, sucking lewdly and gazing hungrily with his teeth. The moan Barry released spurred him to keep on, and he shoved a hand up Barry's shirt to feel the toned abs he had yet to get a look at. All the while, he spread Barry's knees apart farther and rocked into him.

“Yes...” Barry panted. “Your mouth feels amazing. I want to feel it _lower_.”

“Mmm,” Len purred, “but first, how about a preview?” He snatched Barry's hand, and with a slow swirl of his tongue, sucked Barry’s thumb into his mouth.

Only then did he realize Barry's palm was glowing.

 _Glowing_.

Because Len was…

This was…

He was…

Shit. Barry did it _again_.

“ _Len_ ,” Barry said, running his dampened thumb across Len's lips and bucking into the hardness between them, “don't stop.”

Instantly, Len's mind went hazy with the urge to _obey_.

 _No_. He had to resist.

“Enough,” Len said, gripping Barry’s wrist to pull his hand away, which Barry took it as a sign to rock _harder_. “Barry—”

“Please,” Barry writhed, “you feel so good.”

“ _Stop_.” Len took his hand and shoved the palm in front of Barry’s face—the rune glowing a bright blue.

“No,” Barry's breath caught, eyes clearing suddenly as he muttered, “no, no, no.” He shook his hand wildly out of Len's grip to get the glow to stop.

It did, and Len felt physically lighter and more clear-headed as the power ebbed away.

“I didn’t mean to!” Barry said, clambering to get away and press himself against the headboard, still hard and flush. “I wasn’t doing it on purpose. Please believe me, it was the _dream_.”

“Dream?” Len repeated. “What dream?”  

“I-I…I don’t know. I can’t remember.” Barry cringed as he pulled his knees to his chest to hide his arousal. “It just made me feel so…lonely, I had to touch you, or I thought I’d go crazy.” Clenching his eyes shut, he appeared so young and fragile then.

Len believed him and touched Barry's cheek to coax his eyes open. “Look at me.”

When Barry did, hesitant, eyes shimmering, Len felt a powerful pull that drew his attention back to Barry’s palm. It wasn’t glowing anymore. Barry could charm him all on his own.

Barry reached out halfway to Len but stopped, as if afraid to touch him, so Len crawled closer, even though he knew he shouldn’t. Knees falling open, Barry’s fingers twisted in Len’s shirt as he leaned forward. He was going to kiss him again, and Len should have wanted to stop him.

Before he could, Barry looked suddenly horrified at himself and pulled away. "I’m sorry,” he said, obviously having trouble shaking off his sire’s control.

“I believe you,” Len assured him.

“He's manipulating me, isn’t he?”

“Yes. I know you don't mean this.”

“I _mean_ it,” Barry said, staring into Len’s eyes heatedly, but then remembered his grip on Len’s shirt and shrunk back, “but I don't want it like this, like some puppet straining against strings I can’t even see.”

Forcing himself to stop crowding Barry, Len sat beside him against the headboard and stretched out his legs, prompting Barry to do the same. Len could see as clearly in the dark as any vampire, but without ambient light, it was quieter here than most places, like they were floating in a void, just the two of them apart from the world.

“There are no strings on me,” Len said.

Barry chuckled quietly, but then sighed. “There are when this glows.” He lifted his dimmed palm. “I’m so glad you can resist it.”

 _For now, but for how long?_ Len wondered. Last time, he’d been drained of blood. This time, it took longer despite being healthy, though having just woken up might be partially to blame.

In Lisa’s vision, it had been as though Len had no will at all. Barry didn’t either, in the end, each of them slaves to the chain of command.

Why this city? Why now? Why _them_?

Sons of a seer and a Focus had to be why, given the power between them, but it didn’t explain why now.

“Amaya, she can’t, like, track back to my sire somehow?”

“No. It might work if he was already in the same room with you, but not searching across an entire city. You’ll need to start with the detective work, and I’ll do the same on my own.”

“All day apart?” Barry asked dejectedly.

“That would be best.”

Their shoulders were nearly touching, and Len felt Barry’s fingers nudge his and start to lace them together. “It’s just…calmer when I’m near you.”

“Calmer?” Len pressed, allowing the touch if only because it came so naturally. “What is?”  

“The world. Everything. Like I said before, you ground me.”

“There may be a reason for that.”

“Huh?”

Len hadn’t intended to tell Barry, but now it seemed he had to. “I think your mother was a seer like Lisa. Amaya agrees with me. She also thinks your father may have been a Focus.”

“What’s a Focus?”

“They don’t have real power themselves, but their presence helps focus that of others. They’re rare, and a child between a seer and a Focus would be even rarer. Which is why it’s troubling…that the same is true for me.”

Barry turned his whole body to Len and squeezed his hand tightly. “Your parents too? How rare are we? One in a thousand? A million?”

“If there weren’t two of us, I’d say one in all the world. We’re likely it.”

“Then both of us being from Central City, finding each other like this…”

“Statistically impossible.”

“Or fate,” Barry said hopefully.

“By design is not the same as fate.”

“But my sire couldn’t control that I was born here or that I wanted to come home after Blackgate. He just took advantage of the situation. Everything else had to be fated. We were meant to meet, Len.”

Len tried to keep from meeting Barry's gaze, but it caught him as he glanced aside, holding him prisoner. “Maybe. I do believe in fate, Barry, I have to, given my sister and all I’ve experienced, but I will not be its slave.”

Barry nodded, losing his brief burst of passion and falling silent for a time, though he didn’t let Len's hand go. “My dad, a Focus,” he said eventually. “It makes sense, the way you felt around him, like you could take on the world. Is that why I feel the same around you?”

 _Flatterer_. And he didn't even realize he was doing it.

“I’m not a Focus,” Len reminded him, “but being the child of someone like that does leave its mark.”

“But if your dad was a Focus…”

“Yes?”

“He just sounded like he wasn’t a good man.”

“He wasn’t. That’s the thing, a Focus doesn’t bring out the best in people, they bring out the most. That can be the best, it can also be the most fear or loathing or penchant for violence. They amplify in others what exists in themselves, I suppose. My father brought out the worst in everyone, even if he did make us stronger. I knew he was a bastard, just never realized it was supernaturally charged.”

Barry snorted, then asked quietly, “What about your mom?”

“She wasn’t like Lisa,” Len said, looking forward into the dark of the room. “Her visions didn’t overtake her. She saw them clearly. Her eyes would flash, and we’d cross a different street. Easy. Like breathing. I used to wonder why she’d ever be with a man like my father if she could see the future. Maybe because being around a Focus made it easier to be a seer at all. I wonder if she knew…”

“You think she was using him?”

“Why not? He used her all the time. He only knew how to use people. Maybe she saw something better in him once, maybe it was enough that she had me and Leo and Lisa before the end.”

“Leo?” Barry said in surprise.

“I suppose that hasn’t come up yet.” Len grinned. “I have a brother.”

“Really? Why haven’t I met him?”

“He doesn’t live in Central. But that is another story. We have work to do.” Finally, Len untangled their tight fingers, much as the loss of Barry made him feel shockingly cold, and he started to move off the bed.

“ _Wait_.” Barry grabbed his arm, bringing the warmth back again. “Just a little longer? It's early yet.”

Len was still flush, still half hard if he was being honest. He should say no. He should keep his distance. Giving into Barry might be what ruined him.

Yet, still he said, “A few minutes, that’s all,” and settled back beside Barry, letting him lace their fingers together again.

No one had ever done that with him before. He’d never really, dated and while touch was common among his pack members, he often strayed from it. His father had seen to that. And one-night stands didn’t lend itself to cuddling often.

Taking the contact a step further, Barry snuggled Len's side, which should have made Len flinch, but he sagged against Barry in kind. “Maybe, given what we are, our intuition and strengths are even more powerful when we’re together.”

“Perhaps.”

“It's just…you know _Warhammer_. You appreciate good art. You see things in people others don’t. You…” Barry trailed off as he looked up and caught Len's eyes. “I wonder what else we have in common.”

Crowded close like that, their lips were only a scant distance apart. That pull between them never dwindled, only increased with touch and proximity and the heat of their eyes meeting, making it impossible to draw back when Barry leaned in.

The surge of completeness was so much stronger when they kissed.

Flooded with that feeling, Len’s tongue breached Barry’s lips, anticipating the eager response as Barry climbed into his lap again. Barry’s pulse thrummed like a humming bird’s, inhuman and captivating, until all Len could think about was chasing that rhythm.

 _No_. They couldn’t do this.

“Stop.” He bodily moved Barry off him and held him in place to prevent another kiss.

“Why?” Barry whined. “Just one more.”

“Barry—”

“My hand isn’t glowing.”

“I know, but this isn’t possible now.”

“Why not?”

“Because I am promised to Ray,” Len said, hating the truth between them and what he had sworn, but that didn’t change anything.  

It was as if Barry had forgotten. Maybe in the moment, they both had.

“I’m sorry,” Barry said, sobered as he shrank back. “But tell me… Do you love him?”

“I told you—”

“It’s not romantic, I know. Are you okay with that? Is he?”

Len pulled away fully to drop his feet over the side of the bed. “It doesn’t matter. It’s the way things are. The only thing the two of us should be focused on is finding your master. We should bring Lisa in too.”

“Lisa hates me,” Barry groaned.  

“She’ll get over it.” Len smiled over his shoulder. “I can talk to her alone later. You have other sources to work through anyway. And I’ll need to meet with Ray again, see if he’s calmed, and find out what Oliver may have told him.”

Before Barry could say anything, Len turned on the bedside lamp, illuminating the room. It seemed to banish whatever remaining spell they’d been under, and Len began to gather his things to head upstairs.

“Splitting up all day?” Barry said in distaste, scooting to the end of the bed. His brunette hair was perfectly bed-tousled and his cheeks rosy.  

“That would be best,” Len said again, struggling not to stare at how alluring Barry was. “I'll make sure there's always someone with you.”

Barry nodded, though it was clear that the only person he wanted to be with was Len.

 

XXXXX

 

Given everyone's schedules, Barry would start with Axel, take a shift at the tattoo parlor with Roy later, then spend part of his night with Sam. That sounded perfect considering Barry didn't want to sleep much if it was going to turn out like that morning.

The mini-makeout with Len had been amazing, but not what started it, and not how it ended.

Barry had never had so much trouble controlling himself before, and he’d been controlling himself so well in other ways. Being with Len was like a drug, and even when he dismissed what might just be coercion from his sire or a connection because of their parents, Len himself was still enough to prove there was more to Barry's attraction.

Len was a nerd, a good leader, compassionate, witty, fiercely intelligent, and _gorgeous_. Of course Barry was lost on him.

“Come on, Barr, I got a lead I remembered last night while trying to sleep,” Axel said as they turned another corner, and Barry realized with a start that they were headed to the Shelter.

He had his sunglasses on but the glare seemed even more annoying today.

“The easy part is you've already met.”

“I have?” Barry asked.

“Yep.”

 A flush of embarrassment filled Barry as they entered and it felt like everyone's eyes followed him, worse and more judgmental than the day before. Axel took them on the same route Len had, until at a fork in the halls they turned left instead of right to a row of doors down a long corridor.

When Axel knocked on one, it took only moments for Frankie to answer.

“What do you want?” She kept the door mostly closed with a scrutinizing once-over of Barry.

“I was just about to tell my friend here how we have a curfew for kids at the Shelter. You know that, doncha, Frankie?”

“I'm no _kid_.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Definitely more impressive than most, even me back in the day.” He pushed the door open, which Frankie didn’t fight considering he was one of the inner circle and carried a lot of clout for someone who might seem flaky on the surface.

It was obvious by the clutter and beds in the room that Frankie shared it with at least one other person, but she was alone.

“Not even Sam's spies know that you snuck out Halloween night,” Axel continued, backing her inside and nodding at Barry to shut the door. “But I saw you.”

“So what?” She crossed her arms defiantly. “You gonna snitch?”

“Have I so far? You were headed toward the tattoo shop, looked like. That arcade on Beacon, I'm guessing?”

Frankie's biting silence answered for her, and Barry picked up on where Axel was going.

“Can you see the tattoo shop from the arcade?” he asked. “Were you there after 9pm?”

“Yes,” she said with a glance at Axel. “Also yes.”

“Did you notice anyone suspicious near the shop?”  

“Maybe. What's in it for me?”

Barry smiled. Frankie was an opportunist. Sam and Rosa would probably like that. “What if I was working on securing you a family? Seriously, I talked to Len about it last night.”

“What?" That piqued her interest, loosening the tight shield of her crossed arms. “You talked to the alpha about me?”

“Sure. I know what it's like to be alone. I lost my parents too, but when my uncle took me in, it felt like I could start over. I still felt alone much of the time but having him there made so much difference. I know you want that too, a real place to call home again and to belong.”

Barry let the silence stretch, waiting for her answer, and Axel didn’t interject.

“I maybe…thought I caught a whiff of something weird,” she said, “but the guy moved too fast.”

“Guy?”

“I only saw him from behind, but he was big. Broad. If it hadn’t been for the smell, I might not have thought anything was off. He wasn’t trying to be sneaky or anything. Now that I’ve smelled you too, I guess he might have been a vampire.”

 _Bingo_.

“Someone else might have seen him, even if Roy didn’t,” she said.

Of course, the neighbors. Cisco!

“Thank you,” Barry said earnestly. “You have no idea how much this might help. I promise I’ll keep talking to Len about a family for you, if you promise to be patient and no more sneaking out. It could be dangerous out there with a vampire around.”

“Says the _vampire_.” Frankie snorted, but her tough demeanor faltered, and he could see the raw hope in her eyes. “Thanks. You’re not so bad for a fanger.”

“ _Language_ ,” Axel teased, and Frankie rolled her eyes.

Barry hardly thought of it as a slur, but he sort of adored how much the pack cared.

“Thanks, magenta girl.” Axel tousled her head of pink/purple. “I owe you one too.”

He made a good ambassador to the common people since other shifters looked at him as one of their own, unlike when Len walked around. Len was royalty, but Axel could be the person staying in the room next door to them—since once upon time that was true.

Walking back into the hallway, Barry felt optimistic. They had a lead, and he knew exactly who to talk to once he headed to the shop for his shift. Things were looking up.

Until a kid running down the corridor ran into Barry’s knees and dropped her doll. He bent to steady her and picked the doll up, but before he could hand it back to her, what must have been her mother rushed over to drag her away, another cat of some sort, given the flash of slit eyes and whiskers in her haste to escape Barry.

The doll remained in his outstretched hand. All Len or Axel’s presence did was keep people from attacking him, it didn’t mean they accepted him once they smelled what he was.

It shouldn’t have mattered. Barry had been shunned for most of his life—by everyone. No one wanted to be friends with the kid whose parents were murdered. Now, to these people, he was the murderer.

“Hey,” Axel said when Barry set the doll on a nearby bench so that hopefully the woman and child would come back for it, “there’s a part of this place I bet you haven’t seen yet. Come on.”

Axel and the others welcomed Barry. It was enough. It should be enough. But Barry could admit that the taste of acceptance made him want more.

He still had no idea what Axel was thinking when they entered a nursery school. 

“Who wants story time?” Axel called, drawing the attention of a dozen kids of preschool age who instantly rushed over.

“Mr. Walker!”

“Axel!”

“Now, now, calm down. I want my new friend Barry here to read to you today. He’s real good at it. Go on,” Axel whispered to Barry, gesturing at a shelve of books. “Pick one, they love ‘em all.”

The teacher watching over the children looked startled, then fearful when she sniffed Barry and her eyes widened, but Axel was undeterred leading the kids to the center of the room where they gathered in a circle around a chair Barry was meant to sit on. Even Axel joined the circle, crossed-legged on the floor like he belonged right where he was.

“Okay.” Barry smiled, perusing the books a moment before settling on one of his favorites that almost made his heart lurch thinking of his mother reading it to him.

_The Runaway Dinosaur._

It was a sad and scary and thrilling story for that age about a young dinosaur who ended up far from home, something many of these children could understand, and Barry could too, more now than he had when his mother used to read it to him.

The dinosaur eventually found his way home again, but the story was about the journey and about what home means, carrying with it a very important message that mistakes happen, everyone gets lost sometimes, and no one should ever be without hope.

“You smell funny,” one of the boys said when Barry sat in the chair.

“Oh, um…”

“That’s not a nice thing to say, Eric,” Axel said. “Maybe he thinks _you_ smell funny.”

The children giggled, and whatever tension had arisen eased away.

“Once, in a faraway land, with a faraway people very different and yet not so different from are own,” Barry began, keeping a gentle rhythm like his mother used to, “there lived a very small dinosaur with his very large family.”

Rivetted from the start, the children all gasped, giggled, or shouted in fear at all the right times, and Barry kept on until the last page.

“See,” Axel said after the kids all cheered and thanked Barry and some even hugged him, “they haven't learned what to hate yet. Aside from broccoli.”

“Mr. Walker,” the teacher said with a frown, having let them have their way for an impressively long time. She pulled Axel aside, and Barry could tell by the way she spoke hushed and short with him that she wasn’t happy with Barry’s presence.

Just like the few parents who came in to claim their children.

“We should head back,” Axel tried to play things cool when he rejoined Barry.

“They don't want me here. It’s okay.”

“The kids do,” Axel said, patting Barry’s shoulder. “The rest just need time.”

 

XXXXX

 

“I’ll get Ray,” Oliver said stiffly when he met Len at the door.

Len had procured the largest hotel suite Central City had to offer for Ray and Oliver’s stay, basically a three-bedroom apartment, which was necessary given Oliver refused to stay elsewhere, and now that Len knew Felicity and William were there.

Normally, he would have pushed Oliver after a welcome like that, made a cutting comment about him speaking so disrespectfully to an alpha, but he was in no mood to make things worse.

“Ms. Smoak. William,” Len greeted as he entered behind Oliver.

Once Oliver had disappeared into the next room over, William asked, “Barry isn’t with you?”

“’Fraid not. He has errands to attend to, and I fear your father would protest his appearance.”

William nodded from where he sat on the floor at the coffee table, playing with action figures. Felicity had been reading but set her book aside and smiled at Len where Oliver had skirted cordialness.

“How is Barry?” she asked.

“Well, despite the odds against him. I believe he mentioned helping you with a science project?” Len returned to William.

“Yeah, but…Dad won’t let me do Barry’s idea. I’d have to go back to the Shelter, and he said we can’t go again.”

“Hmm. Maybe I can convince him otherwise.”

“Really, sir? You’d do that?”

The boy, at least, knew respect. “Don’t hold your breath, but if all goes well, even your father and I might be friends when this is over. And perhaps you’ll see me around Starling from time to time.”

“With Barry?” William had obviously latched on to Barry like everyone else who’d met him, even if he had seen Barry throw his father across a room.

“We might have to wait and see about that.”

“Leonard.” Ray entered, followed by Oliver who moved swiftly to Felicity’s side as if he needed to protect his family from Len. “Let’s speak privately.”

That didn’t have to mean bad news, but regardless, Len nodded farewell to the Queens and followed Ray beyond the glass doors into his private quarters.

Ray had only allowed Len to cover the first night of their stay, insisting that he pay after that despite the cost. What he didn’t know was that Len had arranged for the cost to be significantly cheaper from Ray’s perspective while Len picked up the slack. Some subterfuge was simply good etiquette.

“Don’t you ever overheat?” Ray asked with a soft smile.

Ray cut a more casual figure in jeans and a T-shirt that clung impressively tight to his large biceps, while Len veered more toward making a statement, even in muted colors, with a button-down, quarter-zip sweater, and jacket in all black.

“I prefer layers,” he said, taking a seat opposite Ray at a table. “I was hoping we might—”

“Before we get to all that,” Ray interrupted, “I have news. I’ve been doing my own research into your…” He cringed noticeably. “Into Barry Allen.”

“Oh?” So much for dodging the bullets whizzing toward Len. “And what have you discovered?”

“There's a vampire in Gotham with ties to the city’s alpha.”

“What?” Len snapped to attention. “Kate?”

“You know her?”

“I knew her cousin. She fills his shoes well, I hear, but I never knew this.”

“I know Kate personally,” Ray said—the alpha wolf of Gotham City who’d stepped up when her cousin chose to retire from leadership and hadn’t been seen in the States since, “but Bruce made the initial pact.”

“Pact?”

“This vampire made a deal years ago for safe harbor, which Kate has upheld, but she wouldn’t give the details over the phone. This sort of secret could upset the other neighboring packs, as you know, but she owes me. I figured since Barry came from Gotham, it made sense to start there. Oliver is going on my behalf today to see what more he can discover from Kate in person.”

“You’re saying this vampire may have been watching Barry for years—with permission?”

“Possibly.”

Len would rip Bruce’s throat out if he knew where he was, but he held his composure. “Oliver’s going? Meaning you’ll be staying in Central alone?” No wonder he was unhappy.

“We still have much to discuss despite this mystery,” Ray said, trying to come off as nonchalant now, but Len noticed the way he sniffed him. Even if Len hadn’t stopped Barry that morning from taking things further, he’d showered like the day before and chosen clothing that hadn’t been anywhere near Barry.

Still, he saw how not picking up on Barry’s scent calmed Ray.

“Considering we have time before we’ll know anything more,” Ray said, “I thought we might do more than talk.”

“Meaning?” Len tilted his head curiously, and Ray grinned.

 

XXXXX

 

Len bounded on all fours around another grove of trees, racing after Ray, who was always a few yards ahead. Ray was younger, after all, and made a lovely brown wolf to contrast Len’s silver.

They’d left their clothes where they parked, Ray having stripped first, quickly with a teasing grin, taunting Len to hurry and catch him—if he could—before he shifted all the way to Stage Four and took off running.

Len had to admit that he felt a thrill giving chase, dashing through his favorite stomping grounds. As an alpha, he rarely had time for such things anymore.

The woods outside Central were filled with trees and hills and glades to tumble through. Shifters of all kinds spent time there, especially in the spring and summer. Now, nearing winter with most children in school, it was easy to find long stretches of those woods empty, especially in the middle of the day.

Ray crested a tall hill and paused at the top to howl. When Len reached him, he threw his head back to join him. After nudging Len with his nose, Ray went tumbling down the other side, beginning to morph again, on two feet and finally human, where he came to a panting stop at the bottom of the hill and collapsed onto his back, laughing.

Len did the same, like they were much younger wolves, playing hooky to frolic in the woods.

“Maybe you’re not the old man they say you are,” Ray said, stretching his arms up to cradle his head and gaze at the sky above. It was easy to be naked as shifters without feeling shame or awkwardness, though Len still instinctively kept himself contained, folding his hands over his stomach.

“Low blow, Mr. Terrill. I may not be as fast as you, but what I lack in speed, I make up for everywhere else.”

Ray chuckled. “That is apparent,” he said with a not so subtle glance down Len’s body.

Back to the seduction. Ray was _not_ okay with the idea of marriage without love and romance. He hoped to find it here. Len owed him the chance to try, didn’t he?

“Oliver had all these terrible things to say yesterday, but none of it was truly bad when I thought about it,” Ray said, bringing his arms down to prop up on his elbows. “You went in person to your Shelter to break up a fight. You defended someone you…believe to be innocent. You stayed calm even when pushed. All signs of a good alpha. And a good mate. Oliver doesn’t trust you, but I think that’s because he can’t see how alike you are.”

“Alike?” Len said with skepticism, looking up at Ray blocking the sky.

“It’s easy to justify our actions but seeing those same actions in others catches us off guard. Oliver only trusts himself to be him, not other people.”

Oliver did seem the type who’d be willing to do anything for those he considered family, just like Len, even if his temper could use a few tweaks.

“I want this to work,” Ray said seriously. “Your ideas, this merger, it would be so good for my city. For me too.” His hand found Len’s atop his stomach, cautiously taking hold and lacing their fingers together.  

The last thing Len should have been thinking about right then was Barry doing the same thing.

This man was beautiful. He was kind and all the things he’d just praised Len for. His body was incredible, far more impressive than Len’s, and he was handsome in the most charming way, like someone who still thought they were a gangly teenager even though they’d grown up more striking than the high school quarterback.

It should have been easy. The motion of Len’s lips when Ray kissed him, the way they parted to welcome Ray’s tongue— _that_ was easy. But in place of the heat Len craved there was only cold.

Ray sighed when he pulled away. “You don’t feel anything, do you?” 

“I wouldn’t say I don’t feel _anything_.”

“It’s okay.” He huffed a false, pained laugh, and sat up. “I know duty comes before what we want for ourselves, I just hoped…”

Len sat up with him, wishing their exhilarating run hadn’t ended so unfairly. “Tell me what you need to finish negotiations and make this official.”

“What I need? The one thing you can’t give me,” Ray said, turning away with a clench of his eyes. “Knowing I can’t have that, I need you to understand that I also can’t accept this union being a joke to the other packs or to my people. I don’t have an answer for how to achieve that yet, but if you want a final decision from me sooner, think of a way that we can both get what we want.”

Rising swiftly, Ray started a hasty trudge back up the hill.

Len sat a moment longer, because he had no idea how to give Ray what he wanted…

When all Len wanted was Barry.

 

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise, Leo is coming soon.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such a long, wonderful holiday with my hubby, so sorry for the delay. Should be back on a normal schedule now. 
> 
> Enjoy! And let me know you're still with me. :-)

Barry liked working at the tattoo shop more than he would have guessed. The smell of blood was intoxicating, but he could push past it. Plus, since mostly humans came in, they couldn’t tell what he was and were always nice to talk to.

Roy wasn’t bad either.

They’d both finished some walk-ins, and there weren’t any appointments scheduled for the night. The shop was quiet, though there was enough bustle on the streets that more walk-ins were possible. While they had downtime, Roy was giving Barry a few tricks of the trade, which was at least doing the job of keeping Barry’s mind from wandering to Len.

“The real secret is repetition,” Roy said. “You won’t always get something creative and fun like Ramon.”

“More hearts and anchors and children’s birthdates?” Barry smirked.

“Exactly. Enjoy it, find ways to make them your own. Don’t be afraid to recommend something unique, like shading, whatever floats your boat. The more you do it, you’ll build your real portfolio to fill one of these walls soon and people will start asking for you by name.

“Ah, but then you wanna run off and play detective.” Roy wore sunglasses too, little round red-lensed ones that wouldn’t do anything against the sun, but it was setting outside anyway.

Barry still preferred wearing his until the last rays dipped below the horizon. “Sort of, but I like this too. Why not both?”

“I don’t get you, Allen.” Roy tilted his head at him. He was an average man in many ways—other than being a werewolf—but he had this scrutinizing way of looking at things that told Barry there was a lot circulating beneath the surface. “I trust you, but a vampire with more heart than most humans is a rare thing. Aren’t you scared of the great unknown? All these new creatures that go bump in the night you never knew exist?”

“Sure. Everything is new. You, the pack, my whole life.” Barry looked around the shop, dark but colorful and unique in every corner, which summed up everything else about the past few days. “But panicking won’t get me anywhere. Being a CSI and everything I want about being an investigator tells me I need to learn everything I can to solve this mystery. That’s what matters. Then maybe things will be okay again. You know, aside from being a _fanger_.” He chuckled, which made Roy chuckle too.

Though there was one thing that couldn’t be solved by finding Barry’s sire.

Len.

Damn it, and Barry had been so good about not thinking about him.

That was a whole other mystery to unravel, one Barry probably wouldn’t like the ending to, since it would likely mean wedding bells with someone else.

“So,” Barry tried to focus on other things, “Len told me everyone’s role, and I know you’re usually here at the shop, but what’s your official title in the pack?”

“I’m Curator.”

“Like for art? Because of the tattoos?”

“In a way. That’s why I got to interview you. But also, if we’re about to undertake a…heist or acquisition,” he lowered his voice even though they were alone, “which can mean things or people, mind you, I help decide who and what would be a good fit.

“For instance, all new shifters in the city present themselves to the alpha. He gets first veto. If he doesn’t say no, they pass through the Curator. It’s rare I turn someone away, but I still get veto power, or on a heist I think might go awry.”

“What do you guys steal for a heist?” Barry asked with his voice equally shushed.

“Relax, kid,” Roy grinned, “sometimes things just need to go missing to help fund the Shelter and other endeavors without government types getting involved. Occasionally it might be for something shiny or a fancy painting the boss has his eye on, but we never hurt anybody. No one who doesn’t deserve it.”

Barry was honestly more awed than disapproving. “And you can better read people than Len can?”

“He’s a good judge, but I have a knack for reading emotions and intent. The people watching helps.” He nodded out the front window at the passersby on the street. “Ever notice that this shop is perfectly situated between uptown and downtown, between higher end stores and slumming it? We get all kinds. Best view in the city.”

Each new experience with Len’s inner circle taught Barry more about how tightly the group worked to keep things running for shifters and how each member was suited to their position. It amazed him that such a clockwork system operated right under the noses of most humans and local government.

But then, Len worked with the _mayor_ , he’d said, so it wasn’t completely unseen, just secret from the masses. Barry wondered if other cities worked this well.

The sudden darkness alerted Barry to the final setting of the sun, and he set his sunglasses aside, feeling a fresh energy rush through him. He was nocturnal now, after all, and he could feel it in every cell of his body. The later hour also meant that the flower shop across the street might be closing soon, and Barry still needed to talk with Cisco about what he might have seen Halloween night.

“Roy, is it okay if I leave you alone to go talk to Cisco now?”

“That lead you and Axel mentioned? Yeah, I guess. I’m supposed to keep an eye on you, but my _Curator_ senses,” he joked, “tell me you’re not planning on slaughtering Ramon or the Snows over there. Don’t take too long though.”

“I won’t. There and back, I promise. Thanks.”

Traffic was light enough that Barry didn’t need to go to the crosswalk to dart across the street to The Winter Rose—which was a clever title if the owners’ names were really Snow.

“Barry!” Cisco greeted when he entered. A couple was finishing a transaction with a brunette behind the counter, but Cisco was busy at the back table with what looked like a large order. “Is Lisa with you? She was supposed to pick all this up tonight.”

“Sorry, no. She came over before?”

“Yeah,” Cisco said dreamily, pausing in his work. “Caught me on my way home the other day and we chatted for a while. I think we had a real moment. And not only coz she ordered so much. I really have to thank you, man. When she comes in, I’m gonna ask her out for real.”

“That’s great,” Barry said earnestly.

“Did you need something else then?” Cisco asked. “She said some of this was already for across the street.”

“No, it’s not that. I wanted to ask you something actually.” Barry glanced at the couple as they finished their purchase and left, allowing the woman to come over as well.

“Barry, this is Caitlin,” Cisco introduced them. “She and her hubby and I own this place together. Barry works at the Rogues Gallery.”

“Oh right.” Caitlin smiled as she shook Barry’s hand. “You did Cisco’s tattoo. Not exactly my thing, I’ll admit, but you did a lovely job.”

“Thank you.” Barry smiled. “Maybe you can help me too. See, across the street, we…had a small break-in on Halloween night. We were wondering if you might have seen the man responsible, so we can track him down. If I gave you a description?”

Clearly concerned about a break-in in their area, Cisco and Caitlin nodded, and Barry told them everything he’d learned from Frankie about the man who might be his sire.

“Sorry, I wasn’t here at that time,” Caitlin said.

“I was,” Cisco said with a frown, “and I think I remember that guy. Brunette, I think? Or was he blond? He went down the alley by Rogues, but I didn’t think anything of it at the time.”

“Can you remember any other defining qualities about him? What he was wearing, his face?”

“Sorry, I didn’t get a good look. His outfit…tan jacket? He looked really normal though, like your nice next-door neighbor type, not a thief. I’d say about your height, just bigger, like you said. Broad.”

It wasn’t a lot to go on, but it was something. “This is all really helpful, thank you.”

“I hope you can catch him,” Caitlin said. “What did he take?”

 _My humanity._ “Something…personal, not cash, so just really hard to replace.”

“Keep us updated if you learn anything, okay?” Cisco said.

“Sure.” Though Barry probably wouldn’t, because he didn’t want to lie to them any more than he already was, and something he hadn’t considered until now was that once they found his sire, Len would likely kill him.

A phone rang in the distance and Caitlin’s ears perked. “Oh, sorry, that’s the back line, probably my husband. It was nice to meet you, Barry. I hope we were helpful.”

“You were. Thanks again.”

Once she had disappeared, Barry was left alone with Cisco, and it wasn’t until that moment that he registered _being alone with Cisco_ for the first time. At the shop, others had been there, and today, there were other people too, all within smelling distance. All within range to throw off the sudden flood of _feeling_ that struck Barry now.

For a second, he worried he was losing control, that it was hunger or part of his power—being alone with a human he could easily overtake—but a quick glance down told him his hand wasn’t glowing, and he didn’t feel any urge to bite Cisco. So what was it?

“Barry? Are you okay?” Cisco asked.

Barry was a scientist and an investigator at his core, so he considered the facts. He’d touched humans since becoming a vampire—Felicity, people he tattooed, Caitlin, but he felt something unique in Cisco. It couldn’t be something Roy would have read before, or he would have known Cisco was different, but it also wasn’t anything bad. Being around Cisco gave Barry a sense of clear-headedness, of confidence and power. Of purpose.

The same way Barry used to feel around his dad.

And _Len_.

Cisco was a Focus!

“I—”

The door chimed before Barry could say anything and he spun around to see Lisa. She didn’t look pleased to have found him there.

“Aren’t you on shift right now, Barry?” she said sweetly but with a dangerous edge as she approached. “Or in need of a chaperone being so new to the city and all?”

“Roy knows I’m here,” Barry defended. “I was just asking Cisco about the man responsible for our _break-in_ on Halloween.”

“Ah,” she followed him seamlessly, even if she still eyed him with distrust, “I suppose that can’t be helped. You’ll have to tell me what you found out. But in the meantime,” she turned to Cisco with an entire shift in countenance, leaning over the table he was finishing her order on, which were mostly orchids, “since some of my order is for the house, I thought you could help load up the van I parked out back. My good friend Rosa is going to give your loading dock door a knock in a moment.”

“Oh! Totally!” Cisco nodded eagerly. “I’ll let Caitlin know. Maybe I can help unload too, ya know, go along with you to your house, then back to the Rogues Gallery for the flowers there afterward so you can drop me off? Or is that too—”

“Anything for a little more time with you, honey.” Lisa batted her eyes at him, and he melted into the goofiest of grins.

“I-I’ll just…start bringing some of these back that way.” He gathered up a few plants, and Lisa took advantage of his encumbrance to lean forward and lightly kiss his cheek. “I’ll be right back!” Cisco flushed a deep rosy pink before quickly turning tail, probably to keep from squeaking or dropping the plants all over the floor.

It was actually pretty sweet, and if Barry wasn’t certain Lisa hated him, he’d be really happy for them. He still was happy, he just didn’t think he and Lisa would be bonding over it any time soon.

“I think I learned something really important,” he started when Lisa turned to him, but the expression on her face made him instantly shift gears. “What’s wrong?” She was rapidly blinking and shaking her head like she might pass out. “Lisa?” Barry knew he wasn’t supposed to touch her, she was supposed to be careful about touching anyone, but then she’d just touched Cisco and…

Oh no.

“ _Lisa_ ,” Barry tried again, taking the risk, reaching to grasp her forearm and then—

Her eyes flashed black with the irises glowing blue, staring dead-ahead as she began to speak in a resonant whisper.

 _Power and Sight can open the path_  
But alone they are lacking to temper his wrath  
The champions together must answer the call  
And win with the one who erases it all

She gasped almost as soon as the words ended, eyes returning to normal and her hand coming up to grip Barry’s wrist in kind.

“I didn’t see anything this time, I’m sorry,” Barry said, surprised that she hadn’t pulled away. “But I can tell you what you said—”

“I don’t need you to,” she cut him off, her gaze distancing as amazement and a twist of a smile lit up her face. “I remember.”

“You do?” Len had said she never remembered. Then he realized, “Because of Cisco.”

“What?” Her eyes centered back on him as she finally released his wrist.

“I’ll explain across the street. But Rosa’s going to have to take that van of flowers home without you.”

 

XXXXX

 

Cisco was disappointed that Barry and Lisa said they had to run back to the tattoo parlor to handle an ‘emergency’, but they appreciated him and Caitlin helping Rosa load the van.

“I’ll be back,” Lisa promised. “Just because we’re not taking that ride together doesn’t mean we can’t grab a drink later.”

Cisco blushed fiercely again.

Once back inside the Rogues Gallery, Barry explained what he’d discovered.

“What? They’ve been our neighbors for years!” Roy exclaimed. “Can’t believe no one noticed he was a Focus, though I guess Amaya doesn’t come here much. How could you tell?”

“I know what it feels like to be around one.” Barry shrugged.

“Barry,” Lisa turned to him seriously, “I remember the words from my vision, but I saw something too. I saw you, protecting Lenny. There were these figures standing over you, two of them, maybe one was your sire, I don’t know, but it was like you were torn between them, and you still chose Lenny…” She trailed off, with Roy looking like he was overhearing something he shouldn’t, though he didn’t step away.

“I know I’m a threat because my sire can control me,” Barry said, “but I promise—”

“I believe you,” she stopped him. “It seems you might actually be as sweet and loyal as you seem. Sort of hard not to realize what a bitch I’ve been when it turns out everyone was right about you.” She smiled, and despite still not knowing how to track his sire down, Barry felt like he’d had a huge win.

“Thank you. But I don’t understand. Why didn’t I see anything? I touched you, same as before.”

“Maybe because of Lenny. Last time, you were both there.”

“Maybe. What do we do now?”

“Consider your shift ended,” Roy said. “You should get back to the den, give the boss the rundown before Sam picks you up for his turn. With all you’ve learned so far, maybe you can catch another lead.”

“Meanwhile, I’m going to spend a little more time with our new friend.” Lisa nodded across the street.  

“Good idea,” Barry agreed, “see if Cisco knows what he is.”

“Sure.” She smirked. “Also, because he’s cute.”

 

XXXXX

 

The day had been far too long between time with Ray and normal alpha duties. Len had barely had time to focus on his vampire problem, but even during moments when his mind should have been elsewhere, his thoughts still drifted to Barry.

Finally, he was nearly done for the day, meeting with Mark and Shawna at The Motorcar diner. As the pack sheriff, it worked in Shawna’s benefit to operate near the police station, situated across the street, and wherever she went, so did Mark. Mostly because Magister and Warden went hand in hand—magic was needed wherever trouble arose—but it was also what brought them together and had ended with Hartley getting an eyeful one evening finding them in an alley.

They didn’t have much good news for Len tonight.

“No sign of a vampire other than Barry? No bodies, no sightings—”

“Not a damn thing, boss,” Mark said, seated beside Shawna across from him. They had coffee and pie between them and a plate of fries Len kept picking at.

“Axel let me know he confirmed a sighting by that tiger girl, Frankie,” Shawna said. “He and Barry were gonna follow up on it, but that’s all we’ve heard. Maybe Sam knows more by now, but nothing he's shared. This guy must be avoiding shifters to not be made. Or maybe he already left town.”

“No, a sire’s control dwindles if they’re too far away. He’s here,” Len said firmly. “Double your efforts. Find him. But if you do, don’t engage, simply follow or capture him if you can. I want answers more than him dead. _Yet_. Anything else?”

“Just a few things to clean up from Halloween,” Mark snorted. “A drunken mage made a splash at a bar in uptown. I’ve made sure all the people present think they imaged it or were too drunk themselves. Nobody believes anything on Halloween anyway. Barely had to cast a spell.”

“I got something too,” Shawna said reluctantly. “There’s buzz about Barry all over town, boss. We’ve been keeping it contained but it’s gonna get beyond our borders soon.”

Len had expected that, even after only a few days. “The alpha in Gotham knows, though she might have our backs. I’ll fill you in as soon as I know more. But we need answers. If anyone thinks they can call for a vote of no confidence and claim my city, we have to be able to prove we’ve been doing everything we can. The last thing we need is a pack war between cities making this worse.”

“What about Ray?” Shawna asked. “The marriage?”

“Uncertain at the moment.” Len snagged another fry.

Pack mergers were always solidified through marriage between alphas. Len didn’t have an alternative, but he didn’t know how to give Ray what he wanted. Without the merger, even if Ray wanted to help Central City, it would be in his best interest to stay out of any wars, but with the merger, he’d be obligated to help, just as both cities would be obligated to share resources and strengths.

If Len didn’t think of something soon to fix the negotiations, his reign might not last much longer, especially with rumors about vampires in his city.

“We need to be ready to handle this without help.”

“You got it, boss,” Mark said without falter.

“Whatever you need,” Shawna echoed.

A text message alerted Len to his phone. It was Lisa, telling him that Barry needed him at the house for a debrief. They must have learned something important, though Len hadn’t expected the intel to come from his sister.

Before he could put away his cell phone, another text lit up his screen, this one making him smile. Normally, he hated surprises, but this was the kind he never minded. He needed a second opinion anyway.

“Good news, boss?” Shawna asked.

“Had to be some sometime,” he said, exiting the booth. “I’m needed back at the house. Keep me posted.”

 

XXXXX

 

Len hadn’t returned yet when Barry got back to the den, but he was whisked up into activity as soon as he crossed the threshold. The others were finally taking down the Halloween decorations and needed help.

“Where did all of this come from anyway?” he asked.

“Everyone,” Axel shrugged, “but mostly Amaya. She’s legit and all, but she loves all the kooky fake stuff.”

“I find it charming,” she said, wrapping up fake cobwebs into a neat ball.

“And no one says no to my girl.” Nate stole a quick kiss after coming back in with Mick to haul more of the decoration up to the attic. Nate might be human, but he could hold his own and lifted one of the larger boxes as easily as Mick did.

“What's this for?” Barry asked, discovering a stack of large sketch paper and neat pieces of charcoal beneath the coffee table.

“Ah, shoot, we forgot,” Axel said. He hopped down from the sofa, having removed bat-shaped streamers from the ceiling. “We were gonna do fake gravestone rubbings of everyone. I wanted to make one for Hart where he hadn’t died til he was 150, coz my babe’s gonna live forever.” He bent to kiss Hartley soundly where he was crouched stacking glittery pumpkins into a box, which was equally as sweet as the first pair’s kiss but made Barry's heart sink that much more for what he didn’t have.

“That I am, hon.” Hartley paused to accept the smooch.

Mick snorted, leaving just as briskly as he’d entered to carry out another box. Nate soon trailed behind him, and Amaya escaped into the kitchen at the sound of a timer going off.

“You can keep those,” Hartley said of the art supplies.

“Really?” Barry had already sat on the floor next to the coffee table to look through them.

“What else are we going to do with them? Come on, kitten,” he turned to Axel, “one more box should do it. Help me get that big banner down from the front window.” Hartley headed off without waiting, but Axel followed with a lovestruck grin regardless.

Barry didn’t wish them any ill will, but it was difficult at times being surrounded by couples. He didn't think much about being left alone. Everyone took to him so well, it felt like he'd always belonged here.

Pulling one sheet from the others in the stack, Barry chose a chunk of charcoal to draw with as inspiration struck suddenly like it often did, as though his hand had a mind of its own. He didn't even think of the structure or flow as he started to draw and shade, working quickly so that when Nate finally reappeared, the picture was nearly complete.

It looked like a tall broad silhouette, emanating darkness as it stood within a long, shadowy alley. So much of the paper was covered in charcoal, but the shading made the image strikingly clear, as though something out of a book of scary tales.

“Wow, that is really cool how you do that,” Nate said, sitting beside him on the carpet.

“Thanks.” Even though Barry felt a strange foreboding about the drawing, he raised his head to smile—only to realize no one else was back yet.

“What?” Nate asked.

“I’m…not supposed to be alone with you.”

“Do you feel like biting me?”

“No. I mean, you smell really good, like, all the time, all humans do, but…I’m okay.” Barry eased as he realized how true that was, and Nate smiled.

“Then don’t worry about it. If Hartley’s rats trust you, I think my oh so tempting neck within nibbling distance will be fine.”

Barry chuckled, only now noticing the rats having climbed onto the coffee table to watch him, moving up his arm as if wondering how it had been going so fast a moment before.

“See? They don’t do that with anyone but Hart and Axel.”

“I guess.” Marveling at the rats that finally stopped skittering once they reached his shoulders, Barry eventually turned to Nate again and marveled at him too. “You really are easygoing for a human among monsters. Not that…I-I mean…”

“I get it,” Nate saved him. “After a while, you sort of roll with the punches.”

“And you’re a historian? A professor? But you don’t mind that this is sort of like…um…” Barry didn’t know how to word it nicely, but Nate caught on.

“A mob family? You might be surprised, but historians tend to be more morally grey than most. The truth is more important than the law, you know. Like with you! You don’t regret trying to get that murderer put away even if you had to lie to do it, right? I bet the only thing you do regret is getting caught.”

“Well…” Barry had never been asked that before, but he’d thought it plenty of times. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Plus, it’s all for the greater good. Most of the time. Okay, sometimes, Mick just likes to steal things, and Axel likes watching something blow up, and Shawna likes making someone sweat, but…you know.” He shrugged. “Oh, and before you say anything about me being with a panther chick, I only got into anime cat girls after I met Amaya.”

Barry laughed so hard that time, the rats scurried away from him, or maybe it was to reattach themselves to Hartley as he entered, folding the Halloween banner with Axel. Mick came in about the same time and realized who Barry had been alone with.

“Hey, you behaving over there, Leech?” he asked, though not with any real bite. He hadn’t shown much of that since day one.

“I’m fine, Mick, really. But do you think we could find a better nickname for me?”

“Hn,” Mick grunted, though Barry wasn’t sure if that was a yes or a no.

Amaya called from the kitchen for Nate to help her with something she was making for breakfast the next day. It was already well past dinner time since Barry had been at the shop late.

The last box was nearly ready for Mick to haul upstairs, but before Barry could move to help the others, leaving his drawing on the table, his cell phone rang. He thought maybe it was Len on his way home, but when he checked, Eobard’s number blinked at him.

“It’s my uncle,” he said when Hartley and Axel looked on curiously and Mick narrowed his eyes. “Len knows I’ve been messaging him. I just…I think I should…”

“Go on,” Mick said, giving Barry a nod that he could step away to answer. They really did trust him, far more easily than Barry had ever experienced, even when he’d won over inmates in prison.

“Thank you.” Hurrying into the hall, Barry took a deep breath before clicking ACCEPT. “Hi, Uncle Eo.”

“ _Barry_ ,” Eobard said with a gush of emotion. “Where are you? I’ve been worried sick. When you didn’t come home after being released from Blackgate, I feared the worst.”

“I texted you,” Barry said, like it was any defense when he’d been ignoring his uncle for weeks and hadn’t spoken to him while in prison either. He’d been too ashamed.

“It’s not the same as hearing your voice and knowing you’re okay. Now, where are you? I know you’re not in Gotham.”

“I…” Barry glanced around, but even though he couldn’t see anyone, he felt compelled to move and find somewhere more private. He headed upstairs. “I’m in Central.”

“ _What?_ ” Eobard said in alarm, as though Barry had said the 9th level of Hell. “What are you doing there?”

“I wanted to be home. I have a job, a place to stay, I’m fine.”

“Tell me where exactly. I’m coming to see you.”

“No.” Barry glanced around again once he reached the landing. The only room he’d been in so far was Len’s, so he slipped inside. “Not yet. I’m not settled, and things are complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“Just…complicated.” Barry couldn’t tell him the truth over the phone—maybe not ever. Eobard would think he was crazy, and if he believed him, it would almost be worse. Not every human could be like Nate.

“Barry—”

“I’m not in trouble. Not how you think. Just give me a few weeks and…then we can meet.” Maybe. If Len allowed it. If it was safe.

“A few weeks is too long. It’s dangerous for you alone, especially there.”

“I’m not alone. And why do you hate Central so much anyway? I grew up here. I feel safe here, and I’ve made some really amazing friends.”

“That’s even more dangerous.”

Barry sagged onto the edge of Len’s bed with a sigh, where several items of folded laundry had been stacked. “You don’t have to coddle me anymore, Uncle Eo. I’m fine. I’m a grown man.”

“Barry—”

“ _No_.” He could hear the authority he’d lived with for most of his life that he once found comforting, but over the years, he’d felt more and more suffocated by it, like Eobard never would have let him out of the house if he’d had his way.

Barry knew it was just love, but he needed his freedom. If it hadn’t been for the vampire part, he’d be glad for everything that had happened to bring him here.

“I’ll call soon, I promise, and when I’m ready, I’ll see you. Until then, please understand. I love you,” he said, and hung up before Eobard could argue.

Alone in Len’s room, Barry suddenly realized how quiet it was, and he was hit by an intense loneliness having pushed Eo away, who’d once been his only lifeline. He just couldn’t handle him right now. He’d been doing well, but then he’d also nearly molested Len that morning—or enthralled Len to molest him. How could he be sure if it was safe to be around him? What if he didn’t have as much control as he thought?

A deep breath brought with it a wave of Len’s smell to calm him, but it also reminded him of all he craved and couldn’t have. Maybe it wasn’t only the vampire part that sucked.

Barry smirked at the pun, but his expression soon fell, because this room, this bed, the laundry, even clean and folded, smelled so much like Len. Barry wanted to dig his nose into it. Then he _was_ , forgetting Eobard and his phone as he unsettled a pile of undershirts.

Maybe it was the bed, Barry thought, pressing his nose to the comforter next, then crawling up toward the pillows. Len had been sleeping with him, but this was the bed he’d slept in for who knows how many nights before that. It positively radiated Len’s scent, and soon, Barry was lost in it all, sprawled out across the comforter, wishing Len was there.

“Why hello,” Len said from the doorway, startling Barry into a lightning-fast sitting position. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No!” Barry scrambled from the bed, smoothing out his clothes as he felt his cheeks flush hot enough to push steam out his ears. “I’m so sorry! I just… I-I… I hate that I haven’t seen you all day,” he admitted, flooded with emotion at the mere sight of Len, so beautiful leaning against the doorframe, “and I’m sorry I can control myself so well with everything else but not with you. I’m sorry about this morning too, but I’m also not because…”

Barry moved swiftly toward Len, rushing on before the scrunch of Len’s features could morph into a scowl or signal that he was about to tell Barry to stop.

“You do something to me I can’t explain. Maybe because of what we are, maybe something else, I don’t know, but I can’t help myself around you, and I know you’re engaged, and this is dangerous because of my sire, but I… I don’t _care_.”

With a final surge forward, Barry grasped Len’s face and kissed him, cloying for his tongue, not chaste or slow or anything sensible, because when it came to Len’s pull over him and his smell…

His smell. Which seemed less prominent for some reason, but that didn’t make any sense. How could Len’s smell be less powerful when Barry had his tongue in his mouth?

This didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel the same at all.

“Barry!” he heard a gruff bark from Len—even though Len’s mouth was very much occupied.

Snapping back, Barry stared at Len in front of him, who blinked owlishly back at him, before he looked over Len’s shoulder at _another_ Len standing in the hallway, fuming as if half in a rage.

“How…? What…?” Barry stumbled away in his stupor, certain he must be losing his mind.

“Barry, is it?” the Len that didn’t smell right said, smiling in a way that wasn’t Len-like at all. He peered back at the other Len before returning to Barry practically gleeful. “You're him, huh? Pleasure to meet you, Barry. I’m Leo, Lenny’s twin brother."

 

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last week was a BEAST for me at work, but this week should be normal, before BAM, I'll be in San Francisco for a while and may or may not get a lot of writing done while on a work trip, we'll see. 
> 
> But for now...enjoy. :-)

Len didn’t often lose his cool, but he could feel the sharpness of his fangs and the prick of his claws as he clenched his hands into fists. “And to think I was pleased to get your text,” he growled, sweeping forward to enter the room and get between Leo and Barry.

“Twins?” Barry gaped, lips reddened and wet from the heated kiss Len had interrupted. “You never said you were twins!”

“It didn’t seem important,” Len spat, “and most people can tell the difference.”

“I didn’t let him speak!” Barry defended. “I was trying to confess something to you. I could tell it wasn’t you as soon as we kissed, I swear.”

Len winced, especially since Leo snickered. He was not in the mood for his brother’s endless amusement and enthusiasm right now.

“Does that mean you didn’t hear any of what I said?”

“Said about what?”

Barry’s face fell.

“Lenny,” Leo broke in, “while the baby vampire is adorable, and I must hear absolutely everything about you two, what did he mean that you’re engaged?”

Shit. “About that…”

 

XXXXX

 

“I cannot believe you didn’t tell me I'm getting a brother-in-law!” Leo erupted, as angry as he ever got, which wasn’t much, but he was still offended.

“I wanted to tell you in person,” Len said.

“When? After I got my wedding invitation?”

“We haven't gotten that far, which is why there was nothing to tell you yet. Negotiations are still in the air.”

“Well I can see why,” Leo said haughtily. “You have no interest in the man. For goodness sake, Barry’s love confession just now—”

“I didn’t say _love_ ,” Barry blurted, looking three shades of scarlet, flustered and awkward, which must have been contagious, because Len felt his stomach sink.

“Really, dear,” Leo smirked at Barry, “that is clearly what it was, and it was lovely. And how upset _you_ were about our kiss,” he whirled on Len, “proves you feel the same.”

“ _Nothing_ is going on between us,” Len insisted. Because nothing could.

“The tingle in my lips says otherwise.” Leo leaned closer to Len, always so easygoing about getting into other people's space. “And aren’t you lucky? He is a fabulous kisser.”

“Leo—”

“How can you say nothing is going on between us? We slept together!”

Len and Leo both turned to Barry with mirrored expressions of shock.

“A-and we would have slept together again this morning, without any enthralling on my part, if you hadn’t—"

“ _Barry_ , enough.”

“Goodness, I have missed a lot,” Leo said with an encroaching grin. “All Lenny mentioned were the bad parts—vampire in town, fledgling in the house he wasn’t sure he could trust, prophecies and doom. He kept all the good parts to himself.” His eyes slid down and back up Barry’s body, making Barry flush.

“It isn’t that simple,” Len said, but his attention diverted to his laundry and comforter that he hadn’t noticed until now. “Why is my bed a mess?”

“Um…” Barry flushed darker.

“Oh it was adorable.” Leo eyed Barry again. “This little cutie was trying to rub your scent all over him. Very primal. Had you kissed the right brother, dear, let me say, I think it was a lovely gesture.”

“Can we pause, please?” Len bit out, but a squeal interrupted any further responses as Lisa came flying into the room and threw herself at Leo for a tackling hug.

“There's my sweet sister!” He accepted her eagerly.

“Eee! My favorite thing. Both brothers in town to dote on me.”

“Now, now, you can’t use those sisterly powers of coercion all the time.” Leo pulled back to give her nose a boop, but she hung on tightly and squeezed. She always said she had to hug Leo twice as hard to make up for never getting any from Len.

“What happened to Cisco?” Barry asked when they finally parted, wearing a pout that Len thought had very little to do with the flower shop owner.

“I hated to cut our time short, but I had to rush home once I heard my big brother was in town.” Lisa smacked Leo’s chest playfully. “He never tells us he's coming until he’s walking across the threshold.”

“Who’s Cisco?” Leo steered the conversation back. “Not someone you were shaking down, I hope?”

“Leo doesn’t approve of some of our practices,” Len explained for Barry's benefit, though this whole debacle made him rub his temples to stave off an imminent headache. “But trust me, Mr. Ramon would not need any _shaking_ to give Lisa what she wants.”

“Oh? Now that I want to hear more about.”

“While I am totally on board with gossiping with the master,” Lisa said, hooking arms with Leo, “did Barry mention my newest prophesy yet? Or that Cisco is a Focus?”

“ _What?_ ” Len turned to her with a fresh gape as he tried to process that.

“Why do you think I was with him, silly? Well, also for the flirting. He has no idea what he is, by the way,” she said to Barry, “but being around him may be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Len was thankful that Barry and Lisa seemed to be getting along finally, but he was the alpha, damn it; he needed to know what was going on in his territory! Especially if a Focus was involved.

“That's the reason I was waiting for you,” Barry said meekly.

“Sure it was, dear.” Leo patted his arm.

Struggling to ignore his brother, Len encouraged Barry and Lisa to continued, and their explanation included how, for once, Lisa remembered her prophecy perfectly.

“I think you should stick close to Ramon for a while.”

“With pleasure.”

“Since he may be of _use_ later.”

“Oh, I’ll use him however I please.”

Len sucked through his teeth to keep from commenting. Yet another thing he could blame on Barry.

“You said you believe Father may have been a Focus as well.” Leo hummed in thought. “Why didn’t being around him help Lisa remember her visions back then?”

“I’d wondered that,” Len said. “I think Mother died because he pushed her too much. He was smart enough not to do the same thing twice.”

The siblings held a moment’s pause for mention of their mother, but they’d had more than enough years to mourn her.

“Now, you told us what you saw,” Len turned to Lisa, “but what were your words exactly?”

She recited the phrases.

 _Power and Sight can open the path_  
But alone they are lacking to temper his wrath  
The champions together must answer the call  
And win with the one who erases it all

“Erases it all…” Len repeated, and in that moment he _knew_ , but it involved a secret he hadn’t told anyone yet, not even Lisa. “It won’t matter unless we find Barry’s sire, but once we do, I know how to beat him.”

“What?” Barry perked up. “How?”

“When the time comes, I’ll take care of it.”

None of them were happy with that answer, but Len was saved from any rebuttals by the buzz of a text message.

“It’s Ray. Oliver is back from Gotham. I’m going to take care of this.” He rose taller to cut off any complaints, pointing a sharp finger at Barry. “You meet Sam as planned, see what else you can find out. Our time may be limited.”

“Okay…” Barry looked upset at being dismissed when he obviously wanted to _talk_ , but Len didn’t have time for him right now.

“I’ll join you,” Leo said, and it was only after Len looked up that he realized his brother was talking to _Barry_. 

“That won’t be necessary,” Len said.

“Nonsense. I'm going. How else am I going to get to know the newest member of our pack?”

Not for the first time, Len wondered how much easier life might have been if he was an only child.

 

XXXXX

 

Leo was the opposite of Len in many ways, particularly how much he enjoyed sharing and talking and bonding when Len seemed uncomfortable with every part of that. Though Leo did say that what Len and Barry had shared so far was more than he usually allowed with anyone.

It comforted Barry somewhat, despite having been sent away again.

“Back before, it wasn’t really a love confession,” he said. “I mean, I’ve only known Len for a few days.”

“Darling,” Leo gushed, making Barry startle at hearing so much drama in what was also _Len’s_ voice, “fate doesn’t care about details, it cares about chemistry. About being in the right place at the right time.”

“But none of that matters.” Barry frowned. “Len’s set on the marriage.”

“Hmm. And what is this Mr. Terrill like exactly?”

They were outside, walking the streets of Central City at night. As Spymaster, Sam walked a different path each evening, gathering intel from his agents, traveling to places most people would be too afraid to tread. Talk of a vampire other than Barry had been nil for him just like with the others, but they'd gotten word recently of someone new in town and had been trying to track the person’s movements ever since.

Sam led the way, stopping at the occasional street corner to get another lead pointing them the right direction, while Barry and Leo talked.

“Ray is…hot,” Barry said, because the man had an incredible body and a very handsome face. “Noble, like the kind of good you can just feel about a person. And he’s closer in age to Len. Plus, they’re both alphas. Both wolves.”

“Do they have anything important in common?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you?”

“With…Ray?”

“With Len, dear.”

“Oh, um… Silly, artsy, geeky things, I guess.”

“Ah, but Lenny adores the silly, artsy, and geeky. I like art as well, but more sculptures and textiles than paintings. I’m a bit of a fashion nut, to be honest, and I was always more interested in a romance novel than a fantasy epic or sci-fi.

“But I digress. There are three things needed for a relationship to work. Attraction, compatibility, and a spark. Tell me, Barry, do you find Lenny attractive?”

“I…” Barry nearly tripped, struggling not to tumble to the pavement. “I-isn’t that like…asking if I find _you_ attractive?”

“Barry…” Leo reprimanded.

“Yes,” he admitted, ducking his head to the side.

“Do you have shared interests and enjoy spending time with him?”

“I guess.”

“Does he turn your insides to jelly?”

Barry sighed. “Every time I see him.”

“Then don’t lose hope,” Leo said with a supportive nudge of his elbow into Barry’s side. “I have to pass judgment on Mr. Terrill yet anyway.”

Sam interrupted their chat as they came to a street corner to say he had one more lead to try, otherwise they might have to call it a night. Barry didn’t care, honestly, since he had other things on his mind.

“Why don’t you live in Central?” he asked once they were on their way again. “Packs seem so much like family, and you're _actual_ family. Do you and Len not get along?”

“Of course we do,” Leo assured him. “We don’t agree all the time, but nothing means more to me than my baby brother and sister. Don’t tell Lenny I called him that though. He hates it, even though I am technically ten minutes older.”

Barry chuckled. It was clear how different they were after spending any amount of time with Leo, even in the more open way he carried himself and how easily he joked and smiled without guile. “Why do you live in Coast City then? I don’t understand.”

“It’s a long story,” he said more seriously, “but the short version is…after Lenny killed our father—one of his more violent acts that I never disagreed with—I’d already been away for so long, I’d started a life elsewhere.”

“Why were you away?”

“He hasn’t shared that with you?”

“I knew about your dad from Axel, but not the details.”

“Well, Lisa prophesized that one of us would kill him. He figured it would be me, so he sent me to Coast City. He was wrong.” Leo offered a wry smile. “I suppose part of the reason it was hard to come home was because I felt responsible. I thought Lisa’s prophesy could have meant either of us, and if I’d stayed, gone back, disobeyed Father, it might have been me instead.

“Lewis was a monster, but that doesn't make it any easier to kill family. I never wanted Len to shoulder that burden alone…” He trailed off before snapping back with a bright smile. “Don’t get me wrong, dear, I do have a great life in Coast City. I’m a museum curator, you know.”

“Curator?” Barry said, thinking of Roy. “Or… _Curator_?”

“Just the normal kind, though the Lizard pack in Coast City has always been very welcoming of me. Their alpha Hal—”

“Shh,” Sam hushed them, stopping short near another crosswalk with an outstretched arm. For a moment, Barry saw the skin of his hand ripple with scales.

Gesturing across the street, he indicated a man on the opposite corner, nonchalant enough that he could have been anyone, but he clearly nodded to their side of the street—at the _alley_ just in front of them.

Another agent. Had they found the newcomer? Barry wanted to ask, but he didn’t dare ruin the element of surprise, especially when Sam held a finger to his lips and began to move forward.

A burst of movement from the alley made Barry leap back. They’d been made. And whoever was making a break for it was incredibly fast.

Sam took off first in pursuit, with Barry and Leo kicking into gear behind him. It was impossible to get a good look at the person while in motion, but Barry’s vision narrowed through the dark streets to focus on their back and keep pace—then keep pace faster, much faster than Sam or Leo, as he rediscovered his speed and became a blur of motion to overtake his quarry.

Barry was so startled by the sudden rush of power, he nearly blew past another alley when the runner turned down it, but he was able to course correct and zip back after them, seizing the person by the shoulders and whirling them around.

“Who—” Barry cut off abruptly, completely dumbfounded by the face looking back at him. “…Uncle Eo?”

“Barry,” he said in equal surprise, winded from his escape. “ _You_ were with those agents? Why? You…” His eyes widened as he looked at Barry, and the wildness in them when he reached for Barry’s face made Barry flinch away before he could touch him. “No… No, no, no, my dear boy, I’m too late.”

“Too late?” Barry wanted to let Eobard touch him, having missed his companionship, the only family he’d known for most of his life, but he was confused, nauseous. They were similar in stature, though Eobard’s hair was blond and his eyes blue, but while he always carried such intense emotion and intelligence in his expression, Barry wasn’t used to seeing him panicked.

Maybe it was because he’d been chased, Barry thought, frantically searching for explanation as he gave an unconscious sniff of his surroundings only to realize…Eobard didn’t smell human.

He didn’t smell like anything. If Barry wasn’t looking right at him, he would have sworn no one was there.

“It’s alright,” Eobard tried to comfort him, tried to touch him again, like a tiger trainer not wanting to spook the beast. “It’ll be alright. But you need to trust me. Come here, Barry. Let me—”

“No.” Barry backed away, out of Eobard’s reach. “You’re lying. You’re keeping something from me. What are you hiding? What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’ll explain, I promise, but I need to—” Eobard’s head snapped to the mouth of the alley.

Barry turned, picking up the voices of Sam and Leo, who soon appeared, rushing to reach him.

“Barry! Did you catch him?”

“Where did he go?”

“He…” Barry turned back, but there was no one there, and no scent left behind to follow. “He was…I…” Clenching his eyes shut, Barry fought to still the flood of emotions overwhelming him, because he honestly had no idea if he’d imagined it all or if Eobard had escaped down the other end of the alley.

He didn’t want to lie, but not knowing how to explain, he shrugged and said, “He got away.”

 

XXXXX

 

“Kate said the vampire came from Central? But he’d been living in Gotham these past several years?”

“Yes,” Oliver said, stiff but dutiful as he reported what he’d already shared with Ray.

They were in Ray’s private room at the hotel again, the three of them along with Mick, alpha to alpha and second to second, while Felicity and William were downstairs having dinner at the hotel restaurant.

“The vampire sought asylum,” Oliver continued, “offered fealty, and the former alpha of Gotham granted it. Kate means to uphold the contract, even now, unless there is proof that the vampire has gone against his terms.”

“Which are?”

“He can feed but not kill. If called upon, he must fight for the pack. His whereabouts must always be known. No one outside the inner circle of Gotham’s pack is to know of his existence. Given those stipulations were for _his_ side of the bargain, Kate was willing to share the information, but she won’t give his name.”

“Tell them the rest.” Ray nodded for Oliver to finish.

He seemed resistant to offer Len anything, but he obeyed his alpha regardless. “The vampire wasn’t alone. He sought asylum for a child as well. A boy.”

 _Barry_.

“He had Gotham’s Shaman teach him how to place a rune on him and the boy, one that would mask their scent and presence, making them practically invisible, and generally keeping others at a distance. It needed to be reinforced regularly, however. The boy had no idea, likely done while he slept, but too long without reapplication, and both would be detectable by anyone seeking them.”

“So Leech had a vampire sugar daddy and didn’t even know it,” Mick snorted.

“What…?” a new voice said, drawing their attention to the door. With Felicity and William out, they hadn’t seen a need to close it, but there Barry stood, looking flustered and distraught. “That’s why I was invisible growing up? Why everyone stayed away from me?”

Oliver looked annoyed that Barry was once again in his presence, Ray tensing as well since he hardly had reason to like Barry, but that wounded expression was not one Len could ignore even in the presence of unsteady peers.

“I’m sorry,” he said, crossing to Barry’s side in the entryway. “Your sire aimed to keep you to himself until the time was right. Your imprisonment in Blackgate must have upset his plans, which could be good for us. It might mean he’s desperate because things are not going as he’d hoped. But what happened?” Len looked Barry over, searching for injuries or other signs to explain his presence. “Why are you here?”

“Apologies for the intrusion, gentlemen.” Leo came in, serious but congenial as he waved to a startled Oliver and Ray. “I was just seeing Sam out. He got called away as we arrived. I’m Leo Snart.” He went to them immediately with unabashed fervor and shook both their hands, leaving them dumbstruck. “How lovely to finally meet our neighbors from Starling. Let me guess, you didn’t know we were twins either?”

“I…did,” Ray said, recovering quickly, “I just didn’t realize you were _identical_.”

“Oh, we’re not identical. I got the better sense of humor. That is a lovely shirt by the way.”

“Leo…” Len resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but Ray and Oliver being caught off guard wasn’t the worse thing. Barry about to lose his lunch was.

“We had a run-in,” Leo explained, wiggling his fingers at Mick in another wave, who grumbled and kept his distance. He liked Leo but didn’t like his exuberance for physical contact. “We _think_ with Barry’s sire.”

“You _what_?”

“No, it couldn’t have been.” Barry shook his head vehemently. “It was someone else.”

“Why do you say that?” Ray asked in suspicion.

“He didn’t smell right.”

“That’s the point,” Oliver snarled. “He can be invisible to our senses.”

“It’s not _him_.”

“You know him?”

Barry’s eyes darted from Oliver to Len, wild and guilty looking. “It’s not him. It was my Uncle Eo, but it’s not him!”

The rest of them exchanged startled glances, even Leo, who must not have gotten that much out of Barry before.

“It can’t be him.” Barry continued shaking his head. “He wouldn’t do this to me. He’s always wanted what’s best for me, to protect me.”

Part of Len wanted to grip Barry’s shoulder in support, but he wasn’t like his brother, and that sort of comfort, especially in public, wasn’t his way. So he spoke softly to offer what he could. “Maybe he thinks he is.”

Tears filled Barry’s eyes as he came to realize what he’d no doubt been denying since the encounter. “In my dreams, he…my sire…he keeps saying something, I…I can almost remember. About me having everything I’ve ever wanted. Everything I deserve.” Blinking the wetness away, he looked sorrowfully at _Len_.

The uncomfortable static in the room charged even higher, and Len could feel Ray’s eyes burning into the side of his face. He’d made deals with devils over the years, but never for so tempting an offer as Barry at the price of his kingdom.

“It’s been a long night,” Leo said, moving to stand in the middle of everyone. “Barry needs rest, even if not much, as we all do, so why don’t we look at this with fresh eyes tomorrow?”

“If it is your uncle,” Len spoke to Barry calmly, “we’ll need to set a trap, corner him and make sure he’s the one. Only then will we move against him, I promise, and even if he’s proven to be your sire,” he spoke louder to make sure Ray and Oliver heard him, “I want to know what he wants from this and why more than I want him dead.”

Oliver glowered, but Ray did not speak against Len.

Eventually, Barry nodded. “Okay, but I want to be sure there are no other leads before we even consider a trap. Please?”

Len paused but soon nodded back at him. “Leo, will you…?”

“Of course.” He moved to Barry's side to lead him from the room but paused to look back at the others—Ray in particular. “A true pleasure meeting you.”

“Leonard…” Ray said the moment they were gone.

“I know. But acting rash is not the way, not with something this dangerous. We can lure the sire out by using Barry, handle this peacefully. If we launch an aggressive attack, lives will be at risk. I won’t be sloppy with my pack on the line.”

“I understand. I will support you and your decision. I only meant to say that it was…nice finally meeting your brother.” Ray didn't realize how much of a better man and alpha he was that he could smile at Len even now.

“Nice. Yes, well, he tends to get that reaction more than me. Oliver,” Len turned to him before Ray could protest, since the second’s expression was wary. “I know you doubt me, maybe now more than ever, but if you truly think so little of me, let your wife and son bring you to the Shelter. William has my permission to enact his little science experiment, and the opportunity might show you that you are not as right about me as you think, despite evidence to the contrary.” He bowed his head, then moved to leave with Mick at his side before waiting to hear Oliver's answer.

Ray stopped him at the door, a gentle hand at his wrist. Only after Len motioned for Mick to go on without him did Ray speak. “Leonard, have you thought about what I said?”

“There isn’t a moment that’s gone by when I haven’t,” Len said earnestly, wishing he could give Ray what he wanted but still unsure how. “Once I have an answer, you’ll be the first to know.”

 

XXXXX

 

Barry felt numb, far more so than he had when he first saw Eobard in the alley and had to wonder if everything he’d ever known was a lie.

Now there was proof. Now there was some pact between vampire and alpha in Gotham for Barry’s soul, keeping him hidden and unlikeable to everyone like it didn’t matter if he was ignored—and kept prisoner.

If Eobard wasn’t his sire, then what and who was he, and what wasn’t he telling Barry? Why? There had to be answers.

“You were right about one thing,” Leo said in the cab ride home. Barry had insisted they not ride with Len and Mick. “Mr. Terrill is quite enchanting, though you probably don't want to hear that right now.”

Barry snorted, amazed at how easily Leo could lighten a mood. “I don't mind hearing it from _you_. If you were the alpha here instead of Len, everything would be easier.”

“For everyone but me, you mean. There are a lot of responsibilities being alpha. I prefer the sidelines, thank you, but Lenny doesn't respect much authority other than his own.” He paused, and after a moment, Barry felt gentle fingers take his hand, such a simple gesture, and so obviously one given out of friendship when they’d only met hours ago. “I am sorry for all you had to learn tonight, Barry. Regardless of the truth yet to reveal itself, it is a lot to take in.”

“Yeah,” Barry said, squeezing Leo’s hand and sniffling back tears. “Thank you.”

“It’ll be alright. You have Central City’s best on your side to figure this out. And me, of course.” He smiled so sweetly, so unlike Len, and though Barry could imagine some other man might fall in love with Leo Snart quite easily, it was only friendship between them, no extra pull, which told Barry that as lovely as that face was, he wanted more from Len than what he could touch.

 

XXXXX

 

Barry was not forced to sleep in the basement that night. There were three guest rooms, all at the end of the upstairs hallway. So Barry chose the one farthest down, and Leo chose the one beside him. He really was sweet, but his nearby presence didn’t help Barry drift off any easier when the past few nights he’d slept beside Len.

He lay for some time, until his senses started to reach out through the house.

He could hear Axel snoring, and eventually Hartley grumbling and shoving at him to stop.

He could hear Mick and Lisa in the kitchen with clinking glasses, having a late-night drink.

He could hear Sam watching TV since he slept during the day, with Rosa half-dozing beside him.

The rest were quiet in sleep—aside from the murmur of voices Barry had been avoiding, because they were coming from next door.

“I’m only asking for an honest answer,” Leo said.

“Fine. Yes, I want him,” Len answered, causing Barry’s heart to stutter—if it had been beating. “But I have an obligation.”

“We can figure something else out.”

“What? I’m out of options. But if you think of something, let me know. I really was glad to get your message about being home.”

“And I have no intention of leaving any time soon.”

“Good. I may need you to lock me in my room to make sure I behave.” Len sighed, and Barry heard a flop like he’d thrown himself back on Leo’s bed. “For now, it’s best if I stay away from him.”

The hope Barry had felt sunk like it always did. He listened for a while longer to idle chitchat between brothers before Len retired to his own room, though he could have sworn Len paused in the hallway, debating whether to turn toward Barry’s door instead.

That night Barry dreamed again, but though he longed to see his sire, he still could not. All he heard was a voice that like usual only his subconscious remembered in the morning.

_“Wait. Be patient, my boy. Until your desires are all that remain.”_

 

XXXXX

 

Days passed with nothing to show for it, and soon, Len realized it had been a week since Halloween night. Strange—when he’d waited so many years for this one.

Sam was having a hard time picking up on Eobard’s trail. There were a few signs of potential other strangers in the city, but nothing they followed led to anywhere but dead-ends. The only option was to lure Eobard in with the promise of seeing Barry to confirm if he was his sire.

“It can’t be him,” Barry kept saying. He had countless missed calls and urgent text messages from his uncle, asking to see him again, to let him know where he was. The only reply Barry had given, which he’d shown Len before sending, was:

_If you’re on my side, then why did you run?_

Eobard hadn’t answered that one yet, but even silence wasn’t enough for Barry to admit defeat.

Len felt for him, but it wasn’t healthy that despite the evidence, Barry had doubled down in his beliefs that his sire had to be someone else.

Ray was still in town, patient but edgy. Oliver must be whispering in his ear to drop the whole thing and leave, abandon the idea of a marriage, but still, Ray stayed, merely giving sorrowful nods when Len said they still had nothing.

Everyone else was working to pull their weight, looking for the sire, for Eobard, whether they were the same man or not, but he was fast and undetectable, and always got away.

It was also a help and a hindrance that the pack had taken such a liking to Barry because all of them wanted to make him happy. And Leo was no help, since to him, the only answer to Barry’s happiness was for Len to give into him, damn the consequences.

He would have locked the door behind Len and left him to Barry’s whims if he had his way, assuming they were meant to be simply because…

Because…

Because that’s what it felt like, but fairytales asked too high a price.

So Len stayed away. Or he had, until the other members of the pack got worried that each successive day that passed left Barry more irritable and reclusive, until finally, he had shut himself away in his room, refusing to even go to the tattoo parlor for his shift.

“Barry?” Len knocked on his door.

No answer.

“ _Barry,_ ” Len said with more authority.

Still nothing.

“I’m coming in,” he declared loudly and entered to find the lights all off and a lump in Barry’s bed. “This better not be a ruse, and I’m talking to a pile of clothes.”

“I’m here,” Barry grumbled, distantly, like he was sick, which was impossible for a vampire. “I want to be alone, okay?”

“You have been alone for hours according to Axel. Do you think I will continue to appease you about your uncle if you stop making any effort to prove his innocence?”

“You haven’t found any deaths,” Barry said, a weak, disembodied voice from under the covers.

“That fact remains whether Eobard is your sire or not, so why not end this and confirm the truth before that changes? Let us set the trap, and you won’t have to wonder anymore.” Len sat on the edge of the bed, unsure if he was speaking to Barry’s front or his back since he could barely see a tuft of brunette hair.

“You have my phone. You don’t need my permission to set the trap.”

“No, I don’t, but I would prefer to be on the same page and for you to be there when it happens. Listen.” Len reached to shake him, the covers falling away enough for him to see that he was indeed talking to Barry’s back. “Look at me.”

“I…can’t.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Len sighed, tugging Barry’s shoulder to get him to roll over. “I know this is difficult for you—”

“You don’t understand!” Barry wrenched away to stay where he was.

“If you wish to be part of this city, then I am your alpha. Now,” Len used all of his strength to throw Barry’s onto his back, “why—” but stopped, because it was clear in an instant why Barry hadn’t wanted anyone to see him.

He hadn’t said anything, simply suffered in silence, until his eyes shone with power—not yellow like they should be, but amber, nearly red, because it had been a week since Halloween, a week since Barry had last fed.

And he was hungry.

 

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leo is so fun to write. 
> 
> And I hope I have you second guessing EVERYTHING.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally back from my work trip away, and had a nice relaxing day. Now to kick back into gear on some editing, more chapters of this, and something special for Valentine's Day.

Before Barry could surge up to escape the bed, Len’s hands clamped down on his shoulder. “You fool. You’re nearly feral, can’t you see that?” he hissed, with equal anger and worry in his expression.

“Let go,” Barry said, struggling to shake him off and roll back onto his side, but Len held fast. “I—”

“You need to feed. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I-I…I don’t know.” He didn’t want to look at Len while he was like this. “I couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t?” Fury raged in Len’s eyes, only for him to scan down Barry’s face and soften. His hands loosened too. “Because you didn’t want to? Or because you felt compelled?”

The answer stuck in Barry’s throat.

“Don’t you see what he’s doing to you?” Len said, finally releasing Barry, but remaining close, leaned against his hip. “He’s making you desperate, forcing the outcomes he wants because you won’t act. We have to stop him. You have to accept—”

“I know.” Barry choked on a sob as he said it.

“And you need to feed,” Len said more calmly. “If I hadn’t found you, what if it had been Axel or Leo or any of the others hours from now or tomorrow morning when you _were_ feral? Don’t you realize what could have happened?”

Barry might have killed someone. He knew it was foolish to have kept his hunger to himself, but part of him had thought maybe it would be better if he just faded away. Another part... might have been under his master's spell.

“I'm sorry,” he said, turning from Len as he lay there feeling vulnerable and empty. “I don’t… I-I didn’t…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Len said, leaning closer, hand resting on Barry's cheek to coax him to meet his eyes again. “I told you I’d take care of you. When you're hungry, tell me. That's all you need to do. The rest of us should have been more vigilant of the passing time, but despite everything, I think the pack forgets what you are. For now, you'll feed from me.”

“I can't.” Barry recoiled. “I don't want what happened last time to happen again. I mean, I _do_ , but that's the problem. I don't want to force you into anything.”

“Then control yourself.”

“I don’t know how.”

Dropping his hand back to his side, Len spoke plainly. “Last time, you were feral. This time, you’re close, but not there yet. You’ll be able to feel when you start to enthrall me, you’ll see it in the rune, you just need to pull back. If I start to get…frisky, you’ll know you’re using too much. Pull back enough, and it will still be pleasant for me, not painful, and over without any issue.”

“But my sire…” Barry spoke toward his pillow. “If he's pushing this, how do I fight him? You said it was impossible.”

“ _Nearly_ impossible. If your will is stronger, you can beat him.” Len reached for Barry once more but nudged at his shoulders instead of holding them down to lift him into a sitting position, bringing their faces inches apart and forcing their eyes to meet. “You need to feed. That's all that matters. You can do this.”

“Okay…” Barry said, acquiescing because he was so hungry, and he didn’t want to hurt someone, least of all Len, just because he was scared.

 _Only a little thrall,_ he thought, looking at his hand first to gauge the reaction of the rune. Almost instantly, it started to glow, but he pulled back until it was a dim luminescence.

“I want you to feel good,” he said, lifting his eyes to Len hesitantly. “I don’t want it to hurt.”

“It won’t,” Len said, hazily but still in control.

Whatever compulsion Barry had felt before to keep his hunger a secret was gone now, the smell of Len intoxicating being so close, even more than usual knowing what awaited him.

Keeping the hand with the rune lifted, he leaned toward Len's neck. He barely remembered doing this the first time, but instinct parted his lips and led him to the correct veins rather than an artery that would cause more damage. His fangs had already lengthened, mouth salivating at the mixture of smell and remembered taste.

When he pierced Len's skin, the first rush of warm, heady elixir made him want to forget about holding back, but Len's whimper and the weight of his hand resting on Barry’s waist grounded him. Wrapping his arms around Len’s body to hold him close, Barry kept his eyes open, always on the rune he had raised behind Len’s back. It pulsed with light only faintly.

Barry drank, savoring the rich flavor and trying to be cognizant of how much he was taking, counting on Len to know when to tell him to stop if he went too far. But in the back of his mind, through the rush of blood hitting his tongue, a voice other than his own called to him.

_Yes. This. Now. He is what you desire. Claim him and you claim everything you could ever hope to have. All of Central City will be at your feet. Nothing and no one can ever harm you or move against you again. Together—with me—they will fall to their knees and worship you._

_Yes_ , Barry echoed, because he wanted that. Not devotion exactly, but the assurance of a future he could control. He’d been alone for so long, ignored, shunned, forgotten by all but his uncle. Now he was free and already almost everyone he’d met was drawn to him. He wanted more of that. He wanted Len at his side and a kingdom to rule over.

“Barry…” Len gasped, snapping him back to startling reality, “you’re not…pulling back enough.”

After swallowing another rewarding gulp, Barry licked the wound with a languid swirl of his tongue. He’d closed his eyes. He hadn’t meant to, but when he opened them again, he could see the brighter glow of the rune, and it was harder this time to make it dim.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, licking another swipe at Len’s wound. “I know you don’t want me, not really, and I’m taking advantage.” His other hand had strayed down Len’s back and slid up his shirt to feel skin.

Len shuddered at his touch. “Enthralled or not, Barry…I want you, but we can't. You know that. We…shouldn't.”

He didn’t sound certain, more like he wanted Barry to convince him otherwise.

Sated of bloodlust but still ravenous in other ways, Barry willed the rune to dwindle completely. It wasn’t blood he wanted now, but whatever came next needed to be pure consent.

“I know which hunger is strongest in me,” he said, pulling back so Len could see his eyes—gold, not amber anymore—as he licked his lips of remaining blood. “Do you?”

Len seemed dazed from the feeding, flush, panting, or maybe that was all desire, as he watched the trail of Barry's tongue. “I…I don’t,” he said, but his expression said the opposite, until he shook his head like he had no idea why he was fighting. “I don’t _care_.”

Surging forward, Len captured Barry's lips as if chasing his own taste. The blood was gone, absorbed almost instantly to make Barry feel stronger, invincible, and what remained as they connected tasted even better.  

Their hands went for each other as urgently as Len’s initial lunge, twisting at fabric and moving closer to connect flush. It was attraction, like Leo had said, compatibility, and a spark so hot it could have been a lightning strike. It had to be fate, and if not fate, if what had placed them together was an unseen force with malice behind it, Barry didn’t care either, he just wanted to keep Len and enjoy this for as long as he could.  

When Len paused for breath—breath Barry no longer needed—Barry took the opportunity to tear his shirt over his head, but Len pulled him back in before he could remove Len’s shirt next. Barry’s hands found harbor beneath the fabric anyway, blazing up Len’s skin until they barely had to break apart for him to yank the offending article away.

Len had him, one arm around his shoulders, the other at his waist to lift him and throw him down on the mattress, spreading him out so he could climb on top. Sitting on Barry's hips, Len traced nimble fingers down Barry's chest as if trying to map the divots.

“There we are,” he said, thumbs dragging across the peek of yellow lightning bolts at Barry's hips, most of the design disappearing down into his sweats. They were mirror image tattoos, one at each groove of his V. “Lightning hips, is it?” He tugged the waistband lower to reveal the full picture.

“I may have been a little drunk.”

Len chuckled, stroking next at the tattoos on Barry's forearms that he knew well. “Any other hidden art?”

“You'll have to look,” Barry said coyly.

A grin curled at Len's lips but then faltered, as indecision shimmered in his eyes. Barry looked to the rune, but it wasn't glowing. He didn't want it to glow, even if Len pulled away. So, he waited for Len to make the call.

Shifting his eyes to Barry's hand in kind, Len’s hesitancy seemed to fade as he reached to lace their fingers together like a sign of trust, covering where the rune would show. “We shouldn’t, but I don’t care, not when I have you like this. You’re not controlling me. You won’t. Maybe the only way we beat your sire is by claiming this for ourselves.”

The promise of that, of being able to have this, damn the consequences, was all Barry needed to hear.

He pulled Len down by the neck, kissing him feverishly. They kicked away their pants and underwear, the clash of their skin bringing back flashes of the first time that still seemed like a dream to Barry. No longer hungry, he was clear-headed too and eager to remember every detail.

Each kiss shot fire from Barry’s lips down through his chest, making him clutch at Len harder as he felt the new animal side of him stir. The occasional edge of claws or fangs proved Len was the same, enough to make Barry long that much more for what they brought out in each other.

Len’s hands didn’t prick with claws, however, when one trailed down Barry’s body to reach between them. They writhed together like they had on Halloween, but Barry wanted more than elegant fingers and messy friction. He spread his legs and raised his hips, encouraging Len to touch him lower.

The lack of supplies would have bothered Barry when he was human, but he soon discovered that the wetness already present was enough to open him up easily, eliciting moans of pleasure without any discomfort. He’d never felt so close to the edge just from having someone stretch him, but then he’d never been with Len before, whose hands were so beautiful, Barry wanted to draw them.

He also wanted more and rocked his hips against Len’s fingers to show his impatience.

“You might be the death of me, Barry,” Len said, lifting one of Barry’s legs higher to align himself.

 _It’s already been the death of me_ , Barry thought a little hysterically, but he didn’t care what he’d lost when he was with Len, beginning a new life where he was more himself than he’d ever been when he was alive.

Feeling Len inside him finally, stretching him so full, made Barry clutch at the sheets and snap his fangs together in his passion. Feverish rutting in the basement had been wonderful, but this was better.

They rocked, and while Barry twisted his fingers for purchase, Len held his leg up with one hand and traced the other along the lightning bolts again. Their rhythm began to build, and build, so smoothly, that Barry knew he wouldn’t last long, but it still wasn’t enough.

“Wait,” he huffed. “Pull out. I want you deeper.”

Len raised an eyebrow but complied with a faint smirk. Barry flipped over quickly, pressing his face to the mattress to let Len take hold of his hips from behind. Rather than reconnect them immediately, Len smoothed a hand across Barry’s shoulder blade.

“And here I was thinking the next one would be lower.” He squeezed Barry’s ass. “The lines seem…ah.” He chuckled, coming to the obvious conclusion of Barry final tattoo—at least obvious to any trained geek. “Avengers assemble?”

An answering chuckle came out a whine as Len pressed back in, in the same breath. The tattoo was made of simple black lines, but the design depicted each of the Avengers in some way, like a star for Captain America, a reactor for Iron Man, an arrow for Hawkeye, and so on. It was Barry’s first tattoo from when he turned eighteen, long before prison.

“Have I found them all?” Len husked, leaning close beside his ear with a sharp snap of his hips.

Barry whined again and pushed back against Len’s thrusts. “Someday…I wanna give you one.”

“Marking me is not something I’d allow lightly.”

“Lightly,” Barry panted back, “isn’t our style.”

Len puffed out a humored breath of air, rocking harder and squeezing Barry’s hips with each fervent pound.

The voice wasn’t there anymore—or maybe it was, but Barry couldn’t pay any mind when the same thoughts raced through his mind in his voice too.

_This. Len. Mine._

The rune didn’t glow because it didn’t need to. Barry had Len, all the way from that searing kiss to the moment Len spilled inside him.

 

XXXXX

 

Len collapsed forward with his head pressed between Barry’s shoulder blades. He felt sticky and hot and oh so satisfied, as a growl purred from his throat. Pulling away to fall to his side, he knew full well how filthy they both were but he didn’t care. His head buzzed in such a pleasant way, and as he glanced at Barry’s dormant hand, he knew there was nothing to blame for this but the chemistry between them.

A knock sounded at the door, and Barry groaned, followed by a shaky laugh. “Maybe that’s Leo,” he said, “looking for a high-five.”

Len snorted, lifting up with effort to look down at Barry, whose eyes still glowed yellow and fangs peeked over his lips. “Funny. Hold on!” he called to the door, swiping the sheets over his skin before throwing them over Barry to cover him, to which he wrinkled his nose but didn’t toss the covers off again.

Snagging the handiest article of clothing, which happened to be Barry’s sweatpants, Len moved for the door, thankful he’d closed it earlier. It probably was Leo, or Axel, or Lisa, all of whom would smirk insufferably at him, he was certain, but for now, he just wanted them to go away.

“What?” he barked, as he pulled the door wide, and was met by all the consequences bearing down on him in one neat package.

 _Ray_.

Ray’s expression went from calm seriousness, to sharp anger, and then deep, jarring grief in seconds, as he took in the state of Len, took in Barry behind him, and smelled the evidence in what must have been a startling wave.

“Ray—”

Ray turned and stormed off down the hallway.

“Wait!”

Len gave chase, barely registering Barry snapping up in bed behind him and gathering the sheets around his body. Len didn’t regret giving into Barry, he truly didn’t, but he hadn’t wanted the aftermath to turn out like this.

“Stop. _Stop_.” He caught Ray at the landing just before he reached stairs and grabbed his wrist to tug him back.

Ray spun around with a snarl. “You swore—”

“I know—”

“You don’t want me, I understand that, but you could have called things off officially instead of…” his nose curled in disgust as he looked back down the hallway, “…instead of humiliating me like this.”

“That was never my intention. It just…happened.”

“You think that’s better?”

Len floundered for a reply.

“I agreed to our negotiations because I thought you were an alpha worth trusting, someone worth merging our packs for. Now, I don’t know anything, because either you can’t keep your word,” he stepped closer to stand tall before Len, eyes flickering with the intermittent glow of anger, “or you’re so enthralled with this vampire, you don’t recognize what you’re doing, and I don’t know which is worse. This is exactly what his master wants from you.”

“Barry isn’t actively—”

“I don’t care. His intentions don’t matter, only the outcome. You know that, yet you’re still being reckless because you…”

“What?”

Ray caught his breath, deflating but still determined. “Because you think you’re in love with him.”

“I don’t do love,” Len laughed, flat as it may have sounded. “I told you that.”

“You would for him. I don’t think he’s manipulating you, but his master is. Maybe he chose Barry for you. Maybe he chose you for Barry. I don’t know, but I won’t be caught in the middle. I’ll help you find and defeat the sire. I’ll still fend off the other packs if they try to move against you after this, but an official union is off the table.”

“Ray…” Len reached for him again, but smartly kept his hands to himself when Ray flinched. “My city needs this. Please.”

“I’ll still help—”

“No, you won’t. Not if it gets bad. I wouldn’t either without an oath between us.”

The myriad of emotions on Ray’s face hardened. “Then I guess that’s another difference between you and me, Leonard. I’m sorry if my word isn’t good enough for you. But then, yours isn’t very good either.”

He finished his escape down the stairs, and this time, Len didn’t try to follow.

 

XXXXX

 

Barry felt like dirt. He’d gotten everything he wanted, but he couldn’t enjoy it when someone else was suffering. Everything he knew about Ray Terrill said the alpha of Starling was a good man, and Barry was the thief in the night who’d stolen his future.

The sex had been amazing, but it was hard to revel in the afterglow no matter how much Len said Barry had nothing to be sorry about.

“I made my choice. Now we move forward, and whatever happens next is up to Ray.”

At least feeling rejuvenated, Barry agreed to send a text to Eobard to meet him later that night at a location Len chose—CC Jitters, the coffee shop. They would spring the trap. All that remained was to prepare for it.

Currently, they sat in Amaya’s workshop. Everyone in the pack knew what had happened—that Barry had withheld feeding, that he’d fed from Len, that they’d slept together, and now that Ray knew. There had been no high-fives, but there were supportive shoulder pats and words of encouragement.

Leo might still have wanted to give Len a high-five. Or maybe Barry. Maybe both.

“I just feel awful I didn’t realize you were starving yourself sooner,” he said as they waited for Amaya to finish what she was working on for the trap. “I thought you were miserable over your love triangle. It didn’t even dawn on me you were hungry.”

“It’s okay,” Barry said. “I think the word for this situation is clusterfuck.”

Leo tittered, while Len gave a subtler smirk. “You rest assured, Barry, that I will play my part just like Lisa. She’s off fraternizing with her florist again, as you know, partially to see if he sparks any new visions, but it’s still very much a date. For my portion, while the most important thing is to secure your sire, we also need to keep relations between Central City and Starling friendly.”

“Meaning?” Len said in a scolding tone. “Don’t go trying to make friends, Leo. This is politically driven, and you…are not politically minded. You can’t simply charm Ray and Oliver into adoring you and fix all this tension.”

“Perhaps _you_ couldn’t, but my charm is in a class of its own.” Leo actually kissed Len on the cheek then, which Barry thought ridiculously adorable, especially when Len rolled his eyes instead of complaining. Then Leo took Barry’s hand and pat it gently. “You let me know if there is anything I can do for you while preparing for tonight. I know how it weighs on you, dear, but you are part of this pack now, and that means we’re family.” He pulled Barry close for a tight hug. “Now, we can’t leave our Starling ambassadors all alone. I heard from Sam and Axel that the pair is at the Shelter with Queen’s wife and son. I’ll simply make sure they’re well accommodated.”

“Oliver agreed to let William and Felicity go back to the Shelter?” Barry perked up, catching a bashful glance from Len.

“I may have mentioned something to him, hoping to sway his mind.”

“Really? For me?”

“For William,” Len said, though the pull at his lips said that wasn’t the only reason. “He’s likely to grow up rather influential someday. Best to make friends instead of enemies.”

“And on that note,” Leo gave a small bow as he headed away, “keep me posted and I’ll do the same. It’s going to go wonderfully tonight, Barry. I’m sure of it.”

Barry didn’t know what ‘wonderful’ looked like given the situation. He’d messaged his uncle in good faith, saying he simply wanted to see him and to talk, but he was lying to ambush him. Even if Eobard was Barry’s sire, that thought churned angrily in his stomach.

“Here we are.” Amaya came back from where she’d been mixing something with a stone mortar and pestle. Barry peered inside as she approached to see a dark red paste. “Hold out your hand. The left, since the right already has a spell cast,” she said, always so calm, making her stand out amongst the others in the pack.

When Barry did as requested, she used the pestle to spread some of the paste over his palm. It didn’t retain the red color but blended into his skin, shimmered, then left no trace that anything had been there.

“He tried to touch you, you said? He prepared something similar on his skin to draw a veil over you like he did when you were a child. But with this, you’re the one who will remove the veil from him. When you are ready, touch his skin with your palm, and you will be able to sense what he truly is.”

“Thank you,” Barry said, though his insides felt twisted. He turned to Len. “Do we need to head to the coffee shop now?”

“Not yet,” Len said. “I’d hoped to do something beforehand. You took all of the serum Amaya gave you before, correct?”

“Yeah,” Barry glanced between them like that might be a trick question, “I finished it a few days ago. It was supposed to help so I can better close a person’s wounds after I feed from them, right?”

“That’s right. It seems to have done its job too. I healed even faster earlier than my wolf constitution aided, but I want to be sure that means it is safe for you to feed from humans.” He looked to Amaya, and she nodded.

“He can feed safely, if you want to test it. Were you hoping I’d ask Nate to volunteer?”

Barry’s eyes widened. Len didn’t mean _that_ , did he?

“No need,” Len said—only for Barry to tense again when he spoke on. “I have a better candidate. There will be no more waiting, Barry, not when you get hungry. I know you aren’t hungry again yet, but that is why now is the best time for a test run.”

 

XXXXX

 

Len was overdue for one of his regular meetings with the mayor anyway.

“The mayor?” Barry balked as they sat at the bar in the very hotel Barry had been staying at when he first got to town. Len had explained after all that it was one of his frequented haunts for this purpose. “You want me to bite the mayor?”

“Mr. Dibny is a good man, and for a politician, I can assure you, that is as rare as the stereotypes suggest. But it does not mean he doesn’t require a gentle nudge now and again to do the right thing.”

“Right thing meaning looking the other way when you steal or smuggle or do other illegal activities for the pack?”

Len took a sip from his drink—scotch, just a finger to soothe his nerves, while Barry had nothing. He could no longer get drunk, but Amaya might be able to come up with other ways eventually since his pout suggested he wished he could. “I can neither confirm nor deny,” Len said with a wink.

Barry cracked a smile, tapping his fingers on the bar top. “You really did help get him elected? Pulled in favors? Why? If he’s a good guy, that’s great, I’m glad, but I get the feeling it’s something more than that.”

He clearly hadn’t only been a CSI because he was good in a lab; Barry’s detective instincts would make him a good PI.  “You’re right, there were several things. When the incumbent decided it was time to retire and candidates started lining up as replacements, I knew I needed to have vested interest in the winner. Dibny caught my eye initially because of his background as a street kid. Bit of a thief, even. Pulled himself up from the gutter to get ahead, but also to take care of his mother. All very marketable to voters and entirely genuine.

“He wasn’t the favorite candidate initially, so I sent Sam and a few others to get a feel for him. They couldn’t. I sent Amaya. She couldn’t. I sent Roy. He couldn’t. Not the same as the spell on your uncle, but they all felt nothing and couldn’t explain why. I got curious. Had a hunch about what might be going on, tested it, and once I was proven correct, I put every possible resource behind making sure he won.”

“But why?” Barry asked. “What did you find out about him?”

Len let his grin twitch wider. “You’ll learn enough,” he said, and nodded over Barry’s shoulder.

Mayor Ralph Dibny had just walked in and headed to Len and Barry at the bar with a nervous hitch in his stride. He was taller than Barry, lankier too, with angular features and a long chin, but he cleaned up well enough in a suit, even if he currently had a long coat over it, shades, and a trilby like something out of a 50s spy movie.

“Who’s the rookie?” he whispered as he took a seat beside Barry, since Len had purposely chosen the stool at the end.

“New to town, but not a shifter if you’re curious, _Mr. Mayor_.” Len didn’t bother to lower his voice, which made Ralph wince. There was no one of consequence in the bar. There was almost no one else at all. “As I’ve stated before, the getup draws more attention, not less.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ralph ripped the hat from his head to toss onto the counter with his shades. “Another, will ya?” He indicated Len’s drink to the bartender, then glanced at Barry, though he’d already relaxed, assuming now that Barry was a human buffer between him and Len. “You not drinking, Rookie?”

“Oh, um…I don’t drink. _Liquor_ anymore.”

“What’s your story then? What-Big-Eyes-You-Have over there didn’t say, but it’s usually for a favor. You’re not an ex-con or anything, are ya?”

“Uhhh…”

“Ah, shit, _Snart_. You can’t—”

“There is nothing illegal in my request tonight, Mr. Dibny,” Len cut him off. “Barry is an ex-con, but a good sort. Former CSI from Gotham and wants to get into private investigating. You know the type.”

“Yeah?” Ralph relaxed further, leaning closer to Barry with a smile. “You know, I used to be a PI myself. If you’re looking for help getting a license, that’s an easy favor. Anything to keep the riffraff in check around here, right? Not that Snart or any of his…people are riffraff, I didn’t say that.” He snagged the drink the bartender placed in front of him and downed the whole thing. He tended to drink on the heavy side in Len’s presence.

Barry shifted his gaze from Ralph to Len with questioning in his eyes that proved he could already feel it. Ralph noticed after nodding to the bartender for another. He was good at observing too.

“Not sure how you feel about me, right? Don’t sweat it, kid. I get that all the time.”

“Sorry,” Barry said, “it’s not you, but…well, I guess it is you.”

Ralph shrugged, eyeing Len for direction, but Len shook his head. Rule #1 was that Ralph was to never divulge what he really was—to anyone. “Keeps my poll numbers even,” Ralph said. “That all? You just need a license?”

“That would be helpful, but um…” Barry looked to Len too, and Len sipped his drink with a grin. “I’m, uhh…supposed to test something on you.”

“Say what?” Ralph gave a nervous grin.

Barry glanced around, but the one guy at a table in the back wasn’t looking at them, and the bartender had gone to the other end of the counter after dropping off Ralph’s drink. Closing his eyes for a moment, Barry opened them again to show off vibrant gold and let his fangs lengthen.

Ralph nearly dropped his new drink. “Even the rookie? Wait, you said he wasn’t—”

“A shifter. He isn’t. Ralph Dibny, meet Barry Allen—a vampire.”

This time, Ralph did drop his drink, only slightly sloshing it, before picking it back up and downing this one like the first. “Of course those also exist. You don’t need to muscle me, you know, I—”

“This isn’t a shakedown, Mr. Dibny,” Len said. “In fact, if you do me this favor, I’ll owe you one for once. And it’s a simple request, really. You don’t even need to move. After all, you’re the one who wondered about Barry’s _drink_.”

Ralph blinked, then tensed all over, leaning subtly away from Barry as he understood. “You sure the favor you want isn’t grand larceny or something?”

“It won’t hurt,” Barry said, already eyeing Ralph’s wrist and the pump of blood beneath his veins, “and I won’t take much. I don’t want to hurt anyone, ever, that’s why I need to practice.”  

“It might hurt, actually,” Len said, and Ralph and Barry both snapped their attention to him. “You can use your thrall, Barry, but it won’t work on him. You see, he’s immune to all our charms.” That was as much as Len would tell, but it was true enough.

Reaching across Barry to steal Len’s drink, Ralph claimed it and finished that one too. “Anything I want?” he asked Len.

“A favor is a favor, Mr. Dibny.”

“Then I’m gonna hang onto this one for a rainy day. Do I need to like…bare my throat and find a quiet corner…?”

“No, this is fine,” Barry said, gently taking Ralph’s wrist and bringing it to his mouth. He inhaled first like judging the bouquet of an especially fragrant wine. Then he pulled his lips from his teeth and bit down.

Ralph gasped, but it wasn’t one of pain. He gasped again, like maybe he was enjoying the feel of Barry’s fangs a little too much, lacking thrall be damned. Ralph must have a few secrets yet that Len didn’t know about.

When Barry pulled away with a swipe of his tongue, Ralph stared with another rapid blink.

“You do parties?”

“Mr. Dibny.”

“Sorry.” Ralph shook his head, attempting to lift either of the glasses in front of him before remembering they were empty. He motioned the bartender back, and with barely any effort, Barry was human looking again by the time he arrived.

Ralph hid his wrist until the bartender turned away, but there was no need. When he looked at the bite marks, there was nothing there. Barry had sealed the wound back to smooth skin.

“Wow. I’m either already drunk or definitely not enough. Anything else you need?”

“You’re hard to read, Mr. Mayor,” Barry said, “but you taste amazing.” He blushed once he realized what he’d said.

“…thanks?”

“I appreciate your time, Mr. Dibny,” Len said. “Drinks are on me, and you can call in that returned favor any time. The PI license you can have sent to my home. I’ll be in touch with any additional details. Oh, and…” He clamped his hand down on Ralph’s wrist—the same one Barry had bitten—before he could run away. “Keep your phone close and a driver at the ready. I may need you on short notice someday very soon.”

“Sure, Snart, whatever you need.” Ralph nodded dutifully.

“Always a pleasure.”

“Yeah. And uhh…nice to meet you, Rookie. Just don’t corner me in any dark alleys. I’m a little worried I won’t fight back.” He downed the last drink, replaced his sunglasses and hat, and lumbered off, a little more unsteadily, but as swiftly as he’d arrived.

“I don’t get it,” Barry said, turning back to Len with a furrowed brow. “I felt completely human around him, but I couldn’t tell if I liked him or…”

“If you really wanted to punch him in the face?”

“Yes!”

“Side effect of what he is. You either love him, hate him, or feel nothing at all, usually at the same time. Perfect for a politician, really.”

“He’s not human? Or a shifter? So what…?”

“Ralph Dibny is something very rare, Barry, even rarer than you. Or me. All you need to know is that the way he made you feel, he makes everyone feel, which also makes him incorruptible by supernatural influence and the perfect mayor to have in my pocket.”

Understanding shown in Barry’s eyes, though a playfulness touched his expression too. “Seems pretty corruptible by you.”

Len smirked. “Leo may have his charms, but the award for most corrupting is mine.” Taking Barry by the neck, he ran a thumb along his jaw. It was tempting to kiss him right then, but not here. “Come on. You I trust. Now it’s time to find out the truth about your uncle.”

 

XXXXX

 

Barry had never had comms in his ear before. And there were so many voices. It was as if the entire inner circle of the pack was tied in, because he could hear nearly all of them while he waited in a corner booth at Jitters for Eobard to arrive.

“I still say we just jump the bastard and kill him out back. Sorry, Leech,” Mick grumbled.

“Think tactically,” Rosa said. “Killing him doesn’t give us any answers, which could come back to bite us.”

“Lizards always think like that.”

“You mean smartly? Why, yes, we do.”

“ _I’m_ tactical,” Axel said.

“You’re a kitten, sweetie. You’d jump at your own shadow.”

“Hey,” Mark roared in offense to the cat slur. “You wanna see whose teeth are sharper, Dillon, coz—”

“Enough,” Len’s voice cut through the rest. “You’re all anxious, I get it, but we need Barry to keep calm. We’re all outside the shop, Barry, ready to come in the moment you need us. The place is filled with other shifters, so he won’t smell that anything is amiss.”

Barry nodded. They’d been through the plan plenty of times, and the fact that almost everyone was there to back him up, save Shawna and Sam on their night shifts, and Lisa and Leo keeping Cisco and Ray occupied, made it feel less insurmountable.

Even when the door chimed, and Barry looked over to see Eobard enter.

He hurried over to Barry quickly, but Barry was nervous and unsure and couldn’t bring himself to stand. He kept his body guarded and his hands to himself as Eobard sat.

“Thank you for seeing me, Barry, but this is too public. We need to—”

“You kept me hidden. You kept me prisoner.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Eobard said, so believably earnest, it almost stung worse. “I was protecting you—”

“And I was lonely. All the time. Because of _you_.”

“Barry…” He tried to reach for him like he had the other night, but Barry pulled back.  

“Did you kill my parents? Just tell me. Are you a vampire? Did you do this to me?” He wanted an honest answer, the truth, the whole truth, but he needed Eobard to say it.

He didn’t. He spread his hands on the table as if to steady himself and said, “I can’t explain. Not here. But if you come with me—”

“No,” Barry snapped, slapping his left hand on the table—on top of Eobard’s, “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Eobard opened his mouth to counter, but stopped, as the veil lifted just as Amaya had said. He must have felt it, because Barry did. The punch of _familiar_ hit him like slamming into a wall. Familiar because it was his own scent echoed back.

“You are a vampire. You did this.”

“Barry, listen to me.” Eobard tried to pull away from his hold, but Barry wouldn’t let him. “You don’t understand. None of this is what you think.”

The sound of clipped steps echoed before either could speak again. “Oh, but it is, Mr. Thawne,” Len said as he came up to the table, followed by Mick and Rosa and Mark, the others holding back near the entrance to not draw as much attention to their numbers. “But you come quietly, and we will be happy to hear your explanation.”

Barry was ready for a fight. The others were too. But Eobard didn’t put up any. He slid his hand out from under Barry’s loosened grip and sagged in his chair like he’d accepted defeat.

“You have no idea what you’re doing,” he said.

“Then defend yourself,” Barry spat. He wanted that, to believe his uncle wasn’t this cruel, but Eobard wouldn’t say more.

Rosa and Mark came forward to lift him from his seat, but still, he didn’t fight. He let them surround him and lead him from the coffee shop into the waiting van outside. Mick and the others followed, but Len remained with Barry, waiting for him to be ready.

All he could do was stare after his uncle, numb now having to accept that the man who’d raised him had ruined his life multiple times over and wouldn’t even deny it.

As Barry rose to follow Len outside, he didn’t notice the other pair of eyes watching him.

 

TBC...


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a few chapters left!

Even though Barry had moved into his room upstairs, the bed was still in the basement.

Eobard sat on the edge as Len stood before him, with Barry held back by the door. Len had been grilling him for information, but there was very little he’d given up.

“You’re a vampire,” Barry said from his perch. “You did this to me. Just tell me why. Tell me the truth. Did you kill my parents? Why won’t you say anything!?”

Eobard flinched at Barry’s sudden shout but looked away, not meeting his or Len’s eyes. “Let me leave. You’ll never see me again if that’s what you want.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Len said.

“The spell that was on me, I’m sure your Shaman can do something similar.” Eobard glanced up. “Do that for Barry. Make him disappear. That’s how I kept him safe.”

“It’s how you kept me prisoner,” Barry snarled. “And alone.”

The expression on Eobard’s face carried no malice, and while that should have made Barry angrier that he was still pretending instead of admitting the truth, it only made him more unsettled. “I’m sorry it caused people to shy from you, Barry, but it was the only way. It’s too late now, but you might be able to hide. Take the alpha with you if that’s what you want but make yourself invisible…”

Barry shivered at the intensity in his uncle’s eyes.

“…and run.”

 

XXXXX

 

“Hey, Sparky.”

Barry peeked up from where he sat slouched on the sofa. He hadn’t been able to stay in the basement any longer, even though Len remained, prying for anything he could get out of Eobard. Hartley and Axel were with him, but it was Mark who’d spoken, coming in from the other room.

“Wanna try making a lightning bolt instead of catching one?”

“Huh?”

“Magic lesson.” Mark sat in a chair across from Barry, while Hartley and Axel shared a loveseat with a built-in TV tray between them, Hartley working on his laptop doing the accounting for the week. “I got time before my next shift out on the streets. Figure we gotta keep making you useful, and not everyone has a knack for this sorta thing like you do.”

Barry felt the faint tug of a smile. Mark wasn’t exactly soft-edged. He was a tiger and had teeth in everything he did. Yet here he was, offering to distract Barry so he wouldn’t keep thinking about the monster in the basement.

Honestly, Barry was surprised Eobard hadn’t tried to enthrall him into attacking Len or the others, but whatever his motivations, that didn’t seem to be what he wanted.

“Right here?” Barry asked, scooting to the edge of the sofa but looking to Hartley for confirmation. Axel was too busy dozing next to him to have an opinion.

“You burn it, you buy it.” Hartley shrugged without looking up from his screen.

“Relax, we don’t need much room.” Mark held out his hands, palms facing each other about a foot apart. “This is the basics. Nothing to it.”

“You don’t need any…tools?” Barry asked. 

“You mean a wand? Kid, this isn't Harry Potter. Some people can harness the arts, some can’t, but you don’t need pretty words or fancy sticks, just strong will and the right components.”

Without any effort, he pulsed his fingers and a ball of lightning erupted between his palms.

“You make that look easy,” Barry said in awe.

“It is easy. You caught this before.” Mark spun the ball in his hands, and finally lifted it aloft. “Which means you already master control of this element, you just didn’t know it. Now, come on.” He brought the ball back down to suspend between his hands again. “Copy me. Will it and make it happen.”

Such simple instructions for something seemingly impossible, but then everything Barry had experienced the past week would have seemed impossible to him before now. Taking Mark’s faith to heart, he squared his feet on the floor, held his hands out in front of him, and tried to will a ball of lightning to appear.

A spark fizzled almost instantly like the strike of a match, and Barry gasped, closing his hands into fists.

“Don’t stop,” Mark said, letting his ball pulse brighter in encouragement. “You’re doing great, kid.”

Steeling himself, Barry opened his hands again, readied his thoughts and—

The ball that erupted was twice the size of the larger one Mark held, so that Barry had to spread his arms to contain it. That finally got Hartley to glance up from his computer screen.

“Uhhh…”

“Damn.” Mark dropped his hands, extinguishing his ball into nothing. “You really are a natural.”

Barry feared he might lose control of the wild bundle of magic, but as he looked at it, he felt connected to every pulse and flicker, feeling the lightning like it was part of him, until it was easy to dwindle the ball’s size and shrink it to where he wanted. Eventually, it was more manageable, and he rolled the ball in his hands like Mark had.

“Don’t go thinking you can just chuck one of those at anyone who gives you shit,” Mark smirked. “Sorta part of my job description to make sure people don’t do that. We need to keep the average normie from catching wise, you know.”

“Of course,” Barry nodded, “I’d never do that.” Though controlling something so powerful was a thrilling sensation and…kind of fun. “I can’t believe magic like this is real. What else can you do?”

“Not as much as you think,” Hartley said, returning to his work again.

Mark flicked him off. “Mages can sway minds, not control them. Well _you_ can, but that’s a different bag. The rest is elements and parlor tricks, I’ll admit. Most people have some aptitude, but it’s talent and practice like anything else. I can teach you more if you want.”

“Really?” At last, Barry snuffed out his lightning, wondering what else he might take to. “That would be amazing.” Almost enough to stray his thoughts from Eobard, at least for a little while.

While lightning appeared to be Barry’s natural element, he couldn’t create any of the others very well. A spark of fire, a droplet of water, enough wind to muss Hartley’s hair and make him scowl, but that was about it, which was only fair, Mark said.

“Otherwise, I’d worry you’d steal my job.”

Mark was the true master. Lightning was his strongest element too, but he could command them all, as well as do illusion magic, which was much more involved than sleight of hand, though it often focused on distraction. His biggest trick was creating duplicate shades of himself, not solid forms, but they appeared real enough.

Barry resisted making a Naruto comment.

“Amaya’s skills are more for runic spells and potions,” Mark said, “but that’s magic too. Talent and skill again. I could use the same recipe as her to cast a rune, but hers would always bind faster and stronger. That’s why we have different positions in the pack. Everyone has their place.”

A warmth spread through Barry’s chest, recognizing that Mark was telling him he had a place too, even if he didn’t have a fancy title like Magister.

He opened his mouth to thank Mark for the lessons but was interrupted by a low, constant rumbling noise. Glancing over at the loveseat, he saw Hartley still typing away, but Axel had gone from dozing to full-on asleep, having fallen over with his head on Hartley’s shoulder.

“Is he _purring_?” Barry snickered.

He was, but before Hartley could respond, the sound of fresh voices filtered in—and it wasn’t any of the usual suspects.

It was Leo, Oliver, and Ray.

Leo sounded joyful, laughing even, as they entered the living room, but the sight of Oliver and especially Ray made Barry’s hair stand on end with uncertainty and shame.

Ray was smiling at first too, laughing along with Leo at whatever they had been discussing—even Oliver looked somewhat amiable—but as soon as Ray saw Barry, he froze, and his expression dropped.

“H-Hi,” Barry said stupidly since everyone else went quiet. “Len’s, umm…still in the basement with my uncle.”

“And no one’s guarding the door?” Oliver snapped, back to his surly self.

“Mick is,” Hartley said, unimpressed. “Un-bunch your panties.”

Mark snorted, Axel groggily stirring at the addition of voices around him, while Leo clucked his tongue at Hartley’s language.

“Hart, dear, is that any way to speak in front of an alpha?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want anyone censoring themselves on my account,” Ray said, tearing his eyes from Barry with obvious pain. “I don’t ask that of my pack, and I appreciate the freedom Leonard grants…most of you as well.”

He’d been about to say ‘ _all_ of you’; Barry had a good idea why he’d curbed those words.

Oliver seemed put out that he’d been so effectively countered and gave a small huff before storming across the room. “Then I should be by the door too.”

“Ray, why don’t I get us a drink while we wait? Anyone else?” Leo turned to the room.

Mark raised a hand, but everyone else stayed quiet, Barry unable to stop staring after Ray and how he was very purposely avoiding looking at him now.

The pair excused themselves into the kitchen, and Barry rose as if pulled by an invisible tether. He went only so far as the doorway, mostly out of eyeline, so he could watch them in the other room without being too obvious.

Away from Barry, Ray’s posture relaxed, the tension smoothed from his face as well. He carried a sadness in his unguarded expression that Barry knew was his fault. Len’s too of course, it wasn’t as if Barry had broken up some grand romance—Len didn’t love Ray—but that didn’t assuage Barry’s guilt.

Ray’s somberness didn’t deter Leo though, but seemed to inspire him, ever ready and eager to lighten the mood and draw out fresh smiles and laughter. They had an ease around each other already that said the past few days had bonded them. And while Barry guessed Leo was good at bonding with most people, he wondered—

A quick glance from Ray caused their eyes to meet. Barry, like a fool, ducked back into the living room, feeling his cheeks redden. Spying like that would not help the situation.

It didn’t help that a few minutes later, Ray and Leo came back in, and Ray said, “Barry, may I speak to you for a moment?”

If Oliver had been within hearing distance, he would have protested, but he wasn’t, he was with Mick by the basement door, meaning Barry had no recourse for escape.

“Um…”

“Just for a moment,” Ray repeated, gesturing toward the foyer with the stairs leading up.

Everyone’s eyes looked to Barry. He couldn’t say no, so he nodded and let Ray lead him from the room, wondering if cornering him while Oliver and Mick were occupied was how Ray hoped to get Barry alone so he could murder him.

“I-I-I, um…I just want you to know that…uhhh…”

“You don’t need to be afraid of me, Barry,” Ray said in a low, patient voice, though not entirely friendly. “Usually, even as an alpha, the wolf is the one who’s supposed to be afraid of the vampire.”

Maybe—if Barry had any desire to fight back should Ray choose to attack him.

But no, that wasn’t what Ray wanted.

“It’s more that I think you hate me,” Barry said, leaning against the banister for something to hold onto.

“Because you’re a vampire? Or because you slept with my fiancé?”

The blood drained from his face, a sensation he was more attuned to no longer being human. “Both? But I thought he wasn’t your fiancé anymore.”

Hardness flickered across Ray’s face, and Barry felt like a jackass for saying something so thoughtless. “He isn’t. He can’t be. Not now.”

“I’m sorry.”

Ray sighed, losing his powerful stance, and with it, the hardness cracked. He believed Barry hadn’t intended for any of this, even if it didn’t help his own aching heart. “I know you’re a victim in this as much as any of us. I’m not in love with Leonard. He certainly doesn’t love me. It was political, duty. I’d just hoped that duty could have somehow ended romantically too.” He smiled, however somber, prompting Barry to smile back.

“It was a nice fantasy while it lasted,” Ray continued. “Almost a shifter fairytale—two alphas bringing their packs together out of necessity and kinship only to find love where things might have remained cold.” The smile twitched as he glanced aside. “That isn’t Leonard’s style, I know. But it was fun to imagine for a time.

“Plus, he is super hot,” Ray said in such a teenage crush sort of way that Barry laughed before he could stop himself and clapped his hands over his mouth.

Ray laughed too. Then they were laughing _together_ , and it didn’t seem so awful between them.

“That’s about the only thing he and Leo have in common,” Barry snickered.

“Yes…I’ve noticed.” Ray looked back into the living room where they could just make out Leo’s profile, sipping from his drink while holding Ray’s in his other hand with a wide, unwary smile that wouldn’t have fit on Len’s face in quite the same way.

“Was that all you wanted?” Barry asked, bringing Ray’s attention back to him.

He didn’t seem as stiff or unfriendly, but he was still an alpha, and he pulled on a strong façade like slipping on a manifestation of his title. “This is difficult for me, Barry. I’m trying not to hate you, because I know this isn’t your fault. But I also need you to understand something.”

Taking a step closer to Barry, Ray became immediately more imposing, and Barry clutched harder at the banister.

“If your master enthralls you to act against us in any real way and Leonard is unable or unwilling to intervene… _I will_.”

A shiver rippled through Barry’s body, but still he said, “Thank you. The other pack members might hesitate. I’m glad there’s someone who won’t.”

Ray nodded, appearing just as thankful that they understood one another. When he stepped away again, he softened to his casual side and offered a small smile. “Not that we need to worry. Your uncle is captured and not putting up a fight, I hear.”

“Yeah…”

“You’re skeptical?”

“I don’t know.” Barry slumped. “He’s my sire, he has to be, but he keeps talking in riddles and won’t admit to anything.”

“Maybe he means to throw you off, so you drop your guard.”

“Maybe.”

Ray studied him, considering the situation carefully, like Barry imagined he did with all his decisions as alpha. “If every answer in life, especially in our circles, was easy, we wouldn’t need packs,” he said and nodded to the other room.

Although Mark, Hartley, and Axel, now awake, were all visible from where they stood, Ray’s eyes drifted more to Leo again. It was an unfairly familiar face for him, after all, one that had lied to him and let him down, but that wasn’t what Barry saw in his expression. There was nothing sour or resentful.

There was longing.

And not just for a matching face.

“Um, do you like fashion and romance novels?” Barry asked.

Ray blinked at him mutely.

“Where are they?” Len’s voice echoed from the living room, distinctly different from Leo’s.

They hurried back inside, finding Len at the other entrance, with Mick and Oliver behind him. Mick’s expression didn’t change, but Len and Oliver both startled at seeing Barry and Ray come in together.

“Did he say anything new?” Barry asked hopefully.

“No,” Len said. “Only repeats for me to hide you and take you away from here, but he’ll admit nothing. It’s all to protect you, he says, and I think he believes that, but what he’s not telling us…I can’t be sure.”

“So kill him,” Mick growled. “Who cares if he won’t talk?”

“ _Please_.” Barry surged toward Len. “Don’t. He’s still my uncle.”

“And your sire,” Len reminded him. “Who killed your parents and has lied to you for half your life.”

“I now, but… Please just… Not yet. He hasn’t admitted to any of it, even if it has to be him. We don’t have any proof.”

“Are you joking?” Oliver scoffed. “Why am I not surprised you’re defending him?”

“Is the basement secure?” Ray spoke over Oliver, addressing Len with that strong alpha mantle back in place.

“Yes. He’s not going anywhere.”

“Then I agree with Barry.”

Much as they’d come to an understanding before, Barry was surprised Ray would side with him. Len and Oliver both seemed to feel the same.

“We’ll wait,” Ray said, “and see what else we can discover. If there’s proof, we’ll find it and decide from there what to do with him.”

 

XXXXX

 

It was already late. Even though Barry no longer required as much sleep, he felt exhausted when he finally headed up to his bedroom. The emotional drain was taking much more of a toll on him than any physical one.

How could he sleep when Eobard was two floors down, imprisoned?

Now that they were close enough, Amaya had cast a new rune on Barry, one to block any signals from Eobard to ensure he didn’t try anything during the night. That meant there should be no more strange dreams, though Amaya admitted that a true separation between fledgling and sire was beyond her power.

Barry wanted to ask Len to stay with him or if he could stay with Len in his room, but he also wanted to think about how to get Eobard to tell him the truth. In the end, he chose solitude and laid on his bed alone. It smelled like Len and what they’d shared earlier, comforting Barry at least a small amount.

When he drifted off to sleep, though it should have been impossible, a dream still came.

He walked down the same alleys and side streets, wore the same black trench, and heard the same voice that he couldn’t place, but this time he knew, even if only in the dream, that the voice did not belong to Eobard Thawne.

_It’s time, Barry. You’ve been doing so well. Everyone trusts you. They’ll listen. They’ll be so much safer if they listen to you. You want to keep them safe, don’t you? To have a home to call your own, a kingdom where they treat you as they should? You just need to have your beloved Len get rid of those in the way._

“What do you mean?” Barry asked, wishing he could move closer to the glowing eyes in the dark so he could finally see him.

_Oh, Barry, my beautiful boy, everything will be fine. I promise. All you need to do is follow what I tell you._

_Let Eobard rot. And kill Ray Terrill and Oliver Queen._

 

XXXXX

 

Barry blinked awake more sluggishly than usual to find he was no longer in his bed—but in Len’s.

He didn’t remember going there during the night, but he must have, sleep-walked maybe, with Len’s arms wrapped around him now and his head tucked under Len’s chin, snuggled close. He knew he’d dreamed again, something important, but he couldn’t remember what. He should talk to Amaya, because whatever she’d done to block signals from Eobard, it hadn’t worked.

Len was awake too, and he kissed the top of Barry’s head like they’d fallen asleep this way. Had they, and Barry just forgot?

“We have a lot to do today,” Len said. “Are you ready?”

Barry tilted his head up at him. “It feels like we’re starting from square one, retracing the same steps to learn more.”

“Detectives often retrace their steps to find new evidence.”

“I know.”

“But you don’t need to worry, Barry. I have another plan.”

“You do?”

Len cupped his cheek, stroking his jawline like yesterday. “We’re going to the Shelter.”

“Why?” Barry said with a frown. “Ray might be there with Oliver and his family. William is finishing his experiment today. I thought we were going to give them space.”

“I changed my mind. Everything we need is there.”

“But what about Uncle Eo? He—”

“Let Eobard rot,” Len said, sparking familiarity and wariness in Barry that he couldn’t explain. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Barry opened his mouth to protest, but Len’s tongue was there, lips pressing to his and stealing his breath with a warm kiss. Something niggled in the back of Barry’s mind that he should push for more, but everything was so easily forgotten in Len’s arms.

He should look at his hand too, just to be sure, but it hadn’t seemed like it was glowing.

Everything was fine. It had to be. Barry was imagining things. There must have been remnants from his dream, making him feel disjointed and half asleep. Len seemed perfectly normal when they dressed and went downstairs to join the others for breakfast.

He ate with the others, Barry happy to sit amongst them even though he couldn’t enjoy the eggs or bacon or even a sip of coffee. He didn’t really miss it, not when he was surrounded by a type of nourishment he’d never experienced before.

Companionship.

“The Shelter?” Mick questioned when Len said that was their first stop. “Terrill and the Queens headed there this morning.”

“And we will be joining them.”

“But I thought—”

“Is it such a ridiculous request?” Len said with a wry smile.

“Whatever you want, boss.”

That odd feeling that something was wrong tugged at Barry again, but he couldn’t place why. Leo and Lisa were also at the table, along with Nate, Amaya, and Axel.

“Who’s going to check on our boarder?” Nate asked, swiping an abandoned bite of eggs from Amaya’s plate.

That’s right, Barry was going to ask her—

“Leave him. If talking got us nowhere, maybe letting him sweat will help,” Len said, reaching over to take Barry’s hand while he finished his coffee.

His _hand_ , which felt nicely warm with Len’s palm covering his—right where the rune would be.

“Something wrong, Barry?” Amaya asked.

“Huh? Oh, uhh…I don’t think so. I can’t remember.” He squeezed Len’s hand, liking the feel of it in his so casually offered even with others there. “I didn’t sleep well.”

“It’s no wonder,” Nate said. “We get it. Whatever happens with your uncle, man, you have us now.” He smiled in sympathy, and Barry felt that warmth again like when Mark showed him those magic tricks, or when he and Roy talked about art, or when Axel had him read to the children, or when Leo gave him a pep talk.

Pack was family, and Barry was part of this one now.

“Thanks.”

“If you’re going to the Shelter, I’ll come,” Axel offered, shoveling in a few final bites of bacon before hopping up from the table, still dressed in sleep clothes. “I’ll just—”

“I have something else for you to do,” Len said. “For everyone. Anyone who’s available, I want you to spread out and retrace everywhere Mr. Thawne was spotted prior to us bringing him here. If he won’t talk, then we’ll figure out the rest on our own. Barry and I can handle the Shelter ourselves.”

“Not entirely by yourselves,” Leo countered. “You’re bound to undo all the good faith I’ve been fostering in Ray if you show up unannounced while young William is prepping for his school project.”

“You just want more excuses to see him,” Lisa teased with a nudge at his shoulder.

“What a scandalous thing to say!”

Barry noticed he didn’t deny it.

“I’ll come too,” she said with finality.

“Neither of you need to—”

“Lenny, accept the backup, whatever you’re planning. What _are_ you planning?” She turned to him with her arms crossed. “Why go to the Shelter?”

Barry had forgotten how much he wanted an answer to that too and listened intently.

“Where better to look for leads we might have missed than the center of shifter activity?”

That was sensible. Barry was reading into everything. His dream must have really shaken him.

“Works for me,” Lisa said with a toss of her hair. “It’ll be a family affair then.”

 

XXXXX

 

Nothing that had happened in the past week had changed the way the people at the Shelter shied from Barry when they saw him. He tried not to take it personally. There was even a child or two he spotted from story time who risked offering him a wave. The others would come around. He’d show them.

That thought stirred unexpected anger in Barry that he didn’t like feeling. It wasn’t their fault they thought he was dangerous. He _was_ dangerous. The burden was on him to show them otherwise so that future vampires might be judged on their actions not their species.

Though the shifters could stand to give him a chance instead of assuming the worst.

The presence of all three Snart siblings brought out a lot of gawkers, and soon, Lisa was pulled in another direction, and Leo had to hurry ahead to avoid being pulled aside too. He spotted Ray and Oliver first, and shooed Len and Barry back to do their lead digging elsewhere while he attended to their guests.

“He is interested in Ray, isn’t he?” Barry stayed by Len’s side, watching the way Ray lit up at Leo’s arrival, even if Oliver looked annoyed.

They couldn’t quite see into the room from where they stood, but Barry thought he saw Felicity further in and William at the head of a row of seated people. He really was conducting his experiment, questioning witnesses and jotting down notes.  

Ray glanced at them, smiled in neutral acknowledgment, then went back to chatting with Leo.

“Maybe it was meant to be this way. I’ve been meaning to ask you…” Barry trailed off as he found Len staring forward far too blankly. “Len?”

“I’ll get Leo out of the way. The positioning is perfect here. It’ll be over quickly.”

“What?”

Len’s head pivoted to him slowly, and he smiled eerily calm. “It’s time to kill them, Barry, like you asked.”

Without another word, Len walked forward, and Barry felt propelled mechanically after him, even though he knew he couldn’t possibly have asked for that.

Could he?

As he struggled to remember, a vision struck him of rising from his bed last night and going to Len’s room where he’d laid down and smoothed a hand over Len’s forehead, his palm pulsing faintly with light. He’d whispered something, and Len had nodded. Then Barry had taken one of Len’s hands, told him to release his claws, and—

“Barry? Lenny said you needed to ask me something.”

Leo. Barry had stopped walking and Leo was in front of him, while Len was at the doorway with Oliver and Ray.

“Barry?” Leo said again.

 _This is for the best_ , Barry thought, as if floating above himself, watching it all unfold. _Kill them, Len. Rip their throats out before they even realize you’re swinging._

He saw it too, like a thread connecting them, how Len stood back while the others looked into the room and his right hand shifted into claws with silvery fur growing up his arm.

“Are you okay, honey?” Leo asked softly, snapping Barry back to him and…and reminding him that he’d liked seeing something spark between Leo and Ray. He’d hoped to talk to Len about it, to help facilitate something where everyone might be happy.

That couldn’t happen if Ray was dead.

Ray was a good alpha, a good man, he didn’t deserve…

Barry had to stop this.

“Len!” He flashed forward to snatch Len’s hand by the wrist before he could finish his vicious swing at Ray’s throat. “ _Stop_. You can’t.”

“Leonard?” Ray turned to them, startled to see the gleam of Len’s claws suspended.

“Villains!” Oliver pushed between them to protect Ray, wolfing out to Stage Two with his teeth bared and eyes gleaming. “I knew you couldn’t be trusted!”

“Lenny!” Lisa came running over too.

“What are you doing?” Leo echoed in alarm.

Len shook his head, but his eyes didn’t clear even when he looked at Barry. “You…told me…”

“No, I didn’t. Or, maybe I did, but it wasn’t me asking. I don’t want this, Len, it had to be my…sire,” he finished like a whisper, because it couldn’t be Eobard, it couldn’t be.  

Still staring at Barry, Len let his hand morph human, and when he lowered it, Barry pulled his own hand away, which finally gave him a clear view of his palm. The rune wasn’t glowing. It couldn’t. It was visible on Barry now, but dead and dull, with a healed yet disrupting slice across his palm.

That’s what he’d had Len do before they fell asleep—destroy the rune with a scratch of his claws.

“This isn’t what you want?” Len said, hazily, like in a fog.

“No.” Barry clenched his hand into a fist.  

“I will do anything you ask of me, Barry.” Len reached for him, cupping his cheek again so tenderly.

“Don’t say that. I’m controlling you, but I don’t want to. I never want you to be like this. I never want you to kill for me. You have to stop.”

“Why?” a chilling voice called—familiar, so familiar, and so close, no longer from a dream or just in Barry’s head. “This is how you send a message to the other packs to leave Central alone, don’t you understand, Barry? Terrill and Queen are in the way. This city is yours. _Ours_. I can finally give back to you everything I caused you to lose.”

Barry turned with a weight settling into his stomach as behind him, out of a hallway of the Shelter that no one else was near, stepped a tall, broad man, in simple, casual clothes and a tan jacket.

He was brunette like Barry, looked very much like Barry actually, if a little older, but his face hadn’t changed since the last time Barry saw him over a decade ago.

“Dad?”

 

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good job, Meow, one of your guesses was totally right. :-)


	12. Chapter 12

“Dad?” Barry was certain he had to be dreaming, because it was his father, the same way he last remembered him, mid-40s, no older than Len.

Like Eobard before, he had no scent, no way for Barry to know what he was, yet in that moment, Barry knew why he’d never felt right about blaming Eobard for what happened.

“It was you…” Barry turned to face his father fully, who took up the archway of an empty hall, while Len stood dazed behind Barry, Ray and Oliver on guard at his right, and Lisa and Leo stunned at his left. “You’re my sire? You did this? How? Why? I thought you were—”

“Dead? Not exactly,” Henry said with some of the calm, gentle presence Barry remembered—mixed with something unsettling he’d never felt before, not from his father.

It was then that Barry remembered Henry was a Focus and more powerful than a normal vampire.

“I’ll explain, Barry. Soon,” he said with a thin smile. “But first, you and Len need to finish what I asked of you.”

“No.” Barry shook his head, leaning back against Len, though unsure if there was comfort there when Len was little more than a puppet.

Onlookers were beginning to gather, even Felicity and William from the other room, though Oliver growled at them to stay back while he continued to guard the door and Ray with it.

“You don’t need to hurt them,” Barry said. “They’re not in the way. We can still merge the packs, unite Starling and Central City—”

“And let them split the power you’ve earned?” Henry’s eyes flashed with a wild, golden glow. “If Starling has a foothold in this city, it will never be ours. But if we control it, I can make up for all our lost time.”

“What about Mom?” Barry felt tears catch the words in his throat. “Is she…?”

Henry looked away, hands clenching at his sides, cold and angry unlike Barry had ever known him. “She’s gone. I thought it would be better if you stayed away, but I hadn’t come to understand yet how I can make it up to you.”

“Make what up to me?” There was a terrible sinking feeling in the question, because again, Barry was certain the villain wasn’t Eobard.

“Kill Terrill and Queen,” Henry said firmly. “We’ll claim our power from there, then everything will be made clear to you.”

“No,” Barry said again. “They’re good men, they don’t—”

“ _Kill them, Barry._ ” Henry’s eyes flashed like before, and a weight pressed in on the sides of Barry’s head like being held between two powerful hands.

Yes… Henry was right, wasn’t he? Ray and Oliver should die. If they were gone, then no other pack would dare rise against them, and Central City would be untouchable.

“We can be a family again, my beautiful boy.” He walked closer out of the shadows and all of Barry’s doubt faded in an instant. “You’ll have a partner worthy of you and the whole city with him.”

_Yes._

“Barry!” Len’s voice said in distress—but it wasn’t Len, it was Leo. He hardly mattered now. All that mattered was ensuring Ray and Oliver never made it out of the Shelter alive.

“Kill Oliver.” Barry turned to Len, who nodded with an obedient smile. “I’ll kill Ray.”

“Like _hell_ you will,” Oliver snarled, baring down to defend against them.

It was beautiful, really, watching Len tear his coat and shirt away to begin transforming, not bothering to remove his slacks, though they tore and stretched with his larger form.

Oliver tried to transform to match him, but he barely completed the shift to Stage Three with how much faster and stronger Len was as alpha. It was one of many reasons he _was_ alpha, a gorgeous specimen as he launched at Oliver and nearly knocked him into the other room where Felicity held William tightly and screamed.

They were afraid…

But…but it would be okay. Barry would show mercy to those who deserved it—as long as it was his father’s will. 

He shifted his stance to launch at Ray, who stood stunned at Len and Oliver’s grappling before turning to Barry and flexing his claws.

“Barry, no!”

Len’s voice again, but like before, it was actually Leo, and when Barry turned at the feel of Leo’s hands on his shoulders, he felt little remorse throwing him away from him to skid across the floor and make all those watching shrink backwards too.

“Leo!” Lisa dove to her brother’s side.

They were occupied now, and Barry had a larger beast to tackle.

“You don’t want to do this, Barry,” Ray said in a half-growl, barely transformed to Stage Two as if he wanted to talk instead of fight.

How weak.

“Yes,” Barry said, glancing at his father and seeing him smile at him in pride, “I do.”

Oliver and Len were nearly equally matched, growling and slicing at each other on the floor, while Barry flashed forward at impossible speeds to pull Ray close before he could even think to guard against him, and sank his fangs into Ray’s neck.

He gasped, clawed hands reaching up to tear at Barry’s clothing—then growing weaker as Barry’s thrall told Ray to hush and still and let this happen, leaving him limp in Barry’s arms to drain.

“Hurry! You have to get here now!” Barry heard distantly from Lisa, speaking into her cell phone for backup, but no reinforcements could stop him when he had Len at his side and his father behind him.

Barry didn’t have to be on guard as he drank from Ray, only keeping a vigilant eye on Len to be sure Oliver never managed the upper hand.

Len bit deep into Oliver’s shoulder, pinning him and nearly getting in a killing blow just then, only for Oliver to headbutt him and scamper back, finally taking the time to transform fully as Len regrouped and stalked around him.

Len would succeed, Barry had no doubt, and when brave and foolish civilians thought to intervene, Henry fogged their minds and turned the most weak-willed of them against each other.

Hanging in Barry’s arms, not fighting, Ray was all but dead weight now. The alpha blood was nourishing, if not as fulfilling as Len’s. A few more minutes and he’d be nothing but a husk.

Oliver tried to dive for Barry to save Ray, but Len was there to protect Barry and grabbed the other wolf by the throat with his claws, slamming him down into the floor.

“Get away from us!” Lisa screamed at the enthralled shifters under Henry’s control, slowly surrounding her and Leo on the floor.

“Barry, Len, please!” Leo cried next.

“Stop!” came another voice—also familiar, though Barry had never heard it so frantic.

It was Frankie, the girl he’d thought might become family if Sam and Rosa agreed to adopt her.

Sam and Rosa! They were who Lisa had called, because they came storming through the throng of civilians, scales all down their skin as they kept transforming, tearing away their clothes as Len and Oliver had, and leaving their long maws snapping with incredible speed in their sprints.

They charged past the others, past Lisa and Leo, and headed straight for Barry and Len.

Only for Henry to step in, as fast as Barry, zipping in front of the Lizards to snatch Sam by the neck and toss him, then grabbing Rosa by an arm and swinging her out of the way. She refused to let him throw her in kind, so he swung and swung and _pulled_ —until her arm tore at the socket with a sickening rip of scales and spattering of blood.

Barry’s stomach dropped. Had his father ever been so cruel? He couldn’t have been. Henry was kind and patient.  

Frankie screamed, on the other side of the room, keeping children back since many of their parents had been enthralled to fight each other or to keep a wall between Barry and Len and anyone who might try to stop them.

She shouldn’t have to see so much brutality. None of them should.

“Please, don’t kill my dad!” another cry whipped Barry’s attention around.

Len had Oliver on the ground, bloody and beaten, defeated save the killing blow he currently had raised to swipe at Oliver’s throat. But William got there first.

Breaking away from Felicity, who’d been clinging to him and sobbing in the midst of the carnage, William dove across his father’s chest and turned to block Len’s blow with himself. Enthralled civilians from William’s experiment had been summoned to drag Felicity away, making her scream louder as William stoically accepted his fate if only it spared his father—a father who was watching history repeat itself, losing loved ones to a vampire and those he’d enslaved. 

“No…” Barry stopped his draining of Ray, seeing that the alpha was barely conscious now, but still alive.

Len wasn’t stopping. William was in the way, and he had to kill Oliver, so he had to kill William, all because Barry had told him that’s what he wanted.

“STOP!” He flashed forward to stop Len like before, grabbing his wrist, because he couldn’t let this happen, this wasn’t what he wanted, his father was _wrong_.

The force of his scream cut through every other sound in the Shelter, bringing the din to a quaking halt. In his larger wolf form, Len blinked back to full coherence, no longer enthralled, and though the civilians had been under Henry’s power, they froze too, shaken by the force of Barry’s stronger will.

“Barry,” Henry snapped like he used to when scolding his young son for disappointing him.

“No,” Barry said again, as William hugged Oliver tightly, and Felicity escaped the people who had tried to grab her to join them.

Ray had slumped to the floor, struggling to stay awake as Barry’s thrall left him, a smear of blood still staining his neck. So many others were hurt and bleeding and scattered about the Shelter with fear on their faces—including Lisa and Leo, who’d never made it up from the floor after Barry tossed Leo like a ragdoll.  

“I don’t want this,” he said to his father, standing resolutely to face him. “And I don’t understand how you could either. The man I remember was kind. He’d never let children or any innocent person get hurt just to get what he wanted. What happened to you? What happened to Mom? Why—”

“ _Enough_ ,” Henry cut him off. “After we control the city, then—”

“ _No_. Tell me now. Explain it to me now. Why… why would you make me a killer?”

The strangeness Barry saw in his father’s expression shimmered away to reveal a deep sorrow that showed at least some of the man he remembered.

“Barry,” Len said warily from behind him, rising from the floor now, shifted back to Stage Two, almost to Stage One, with his pants hanging low around his waist from how they’d stretched. “We have to stop him.”

Barry heard Len, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from Henry. “Just tell me, Dad. Explain. Make me understand without _making_ me into something I’m not.”

The others were crowding in, even the civilians. It seemed Henry could no longer take control of them with Barry set against him. Barry’s unique version of being a vampire, Focus and Seer combined, was serving him well, but he didn’t want to witness his father get torn apart by an angry mob.

“Dad…”

“Soon. I’ll show you. When you have everything you ever wanted, Barry, then you’ll be able to forgive me.”

There was a blur of movement that Barry had only ever seen from Eobard, never knowing what he looked like when he ran himself, but before anyone could pounce to catch Henry, he vanished in a flash.

“Ray!” Oliver cried, lurching to his feet to scramble to Ray’s side, propped in the doorway between rooms.

So many of the others shrank back—or maybe sagged in relief that Henry was gone—as Barry remembered that Ray was not the most injured among them.

“Rosa. Oh my god—” He spun toward where he’d see her and Sam thrown, only to stop short as he saw her with a brand-new arm finishing growing back into place from her torn shirt.

“Urg, I hate having to do that.” She shook her arm as if to confirm feeling in her fingers, apparently nonplussed by the whole ordeal. “Handy trick for getting out of a grapple though.”

“Like Doc Connors…” Barry gasped.  

“Who?”

“Thank you!” Barry was startled by small arms wrapping around him. William had attached himself to his waist in a vigorous hug. “You did it. You beat him. Even though he was your sire. And your dad?”

What little pride Barry had been feeling after overpowering his father’s control sunk low in his stomach—because it was his dad. How could it be his dad? “Yeah…”

“It must have been so hard,” William said, squeezing tight.

“It was. But I did what I had to.” Barry looked up to see Len fully human again with Lisa and Leo bookending him, making sure none of the damage Oliver had done while defending himself had been too deep. Honestly, Oliver looked worse off, though not as bad as Ray.

Rosa was on the phone to Amaya, making sure she was headed there immediately. Ray would need a blood transfusion, but as long as he stayed conscious, he seemed to be okay.

Barry was caught between wanting to go to Len and beg his forgiveness for letting it get this far, wondering when Oliver would turn from checking on Ray to maul him for even daring to be near William after what he’d almost allowed to happen.

But when Oliver finally stood to turn toward him, and William grabbed Barry’s hand like he was also worried about what his father might do, Oliver came closer with a look of gratefulness.

“I thought this time…I was going to have to watch it happen instead of seeing the aftermath,” Oliver said with a catch in his voice. “To Ray, to Felicity, even William. But you didn’t let him rule you. You saved them. You saved me.” He stretched a hand toward Barry to shake, even though Barry had almost drained his alpha to the point of death.

Ray looked on with a weary smile, nodding to Sam and Rosa around him that he’d be fine once Amaya got there.

After Barry let go of William’s hand to shake Oliver’s, Felicity flew over to hug him too, which was when he started to notice that the onlookers weren’t watching him with the same fear as before.

Barry was glomped equally vigorously by Leo and Lisa once the Queens went back to Ray.

“I don’t know how you did that, honey, but you were amazing,” Leo said, before ducking away to check on Ray as well.

“Maybe that was it,” Lisa said. “The prophesy. Because of what Lenny and our pack means to you, you beat him.”

“It’s not enough,” Len dismissed, stepping closer too. He seemed so out of place in a shredded pair of slacks. Barry bent to pick up his shirt and jacket for him, but the buttons had popped off the collared shirt, so he only handed him the jacket. “That was all you, Barry. The prophesy needs both of us to end this. Now that we know your sire’s identity, we can be ready.”

“Len…” Barry pulled away before their fingers could brush when Len accepted the jacket. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t remember enthralling you last night. We almost… I almost made you…”

“You won, Barry. Against nearly impossible odds, you beat your sire—your father—to save everyone. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Len smiled, and it was in that expression of pride that Barry felt warmth again, acceptance and fulfillment, that wasn’t at all what his father had instilled in him.

“And hey,” Lisa punched his arm playfully, “you even got Queen to like you.”

Barry laughed, mostly in amazement that they weren’t afraid. They still welcomed him as part of their family.

Len came closer to grip the side of Barry’s jaw, which felt so much better when he was in his right mind. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” Barry covered Len’s hand with his. “But I’m better than I thought I’d be.”

“Everyone available is on their way,” Sam said as he and Rosa came over. “We’ll track the vampire and make sure there was no lasting damage to the people here.”

“I am so sorry about your arm,” Barry said to Rosa, “that was just…awful.”

“More a nuisance than anything,” she said. “What, never see a Lizard regrow a tail before? Works on limbs for us too.”

“It was so _sick_ ,” came Frankie’s voice, the young teen having pulled away from the children now that all the adults were back to their senses. She seemed amazed at Sam and Rosa even more than how Barry had been the catalyst to end things.

That was fine by Barry. “Hey Frankie,” he said to her with a warm smile. “Have you met Sam and Rosa?”

 

XXXXX

 

Barry was unlike any vampire Len had ever heard of. He’d surpassed his sire’s control and even paused to help broker an adoption before calling it good at the Shelter. He was amazing.

It helped that the average shifter under Len’s rule now looked at Barry in awe too, realizing what an asset he was after seeing him stand up for their sakes.

Ray would be fine. It turned out that Len and Leo were both matches to his blood type, so of course _Leo_ had volunteered to be the donor so Len and Barry could head back to the den.

But for all of Barry’s successes today, he stared ahead blankly now, face pale, as Eobard finally told them the whole truth.

“It was my fault, in the end. If I’d been more vigilant, I would have fed before I was that far gone. I tried to fight it, to hold my sanity long enough to merely feed from your father, but I lost control, took too much. He would have died. The only thing I could think to do was turn him.

“I had no idea he had a wife and child. I stayed with him, waiting for the change to finish and for him to wake up so I could feed him in return. Otherwise, children wake up feral their first night. Then I heard you and your mother come home. I was so stunned to see you both, I froze.

“I stayed hidden, but by the time I collected myself, you’d moved past me into the living room where I’d left your father. The timing couldn’t have been worse. He woke up…saw your mother and…”

Len wanted to hate this man, but he believed the guilt and sympathy he saw in Eobard’s eyes, sitting there on the bed in the basement, hands clasped between his knees.

“By the time I realized what was happening, he’d done so much damage, I couldn’t save her, not even to turn her too. I grabbed you and tried to use my power as his sire to stop him, but it didn’t work. I realized then that he was a Focus and couldn’t be affected by my thrall.

“You’re different, Barry. His control was still able to get through to you, but you are strong enough now to overpower him if you focus correctly.

“He snapped to his senses as the blood coursed through him, looking down and realizing what he’d done. You were so hysterical, just a boy, you repressed it all, but in that moment, when your father was thinking clearly, he wanted you as far away from him as possible. He asked me to take you, to protect you, to never let you know what had happened, because he feared that one day, he might come for you too.

“It’s easy for our kind to fake our deaths. We have no pulse and can be still for hours. The police never questioned it, and I took you in, took you back to Gotham. I left Henry a PO box to send letters to, but that was all. He never knew where we were, and I used the runes to hide us.

“It wasn’t even a full year later that his tone began to change when asking after you. I think the guilt of what he’d done drove him mad. The solitude. What I’d made of him. He began asking to see you. Demanded it. But I could tell he wasn’t the same, that it wasn’t right to hand you back to him, so I refused and kept you as my own.

“I knew I couldn’t protect you forever, but when you were sent to prison, I feared the worst, and the worst was realized. The rune’s power faded, and you chose to go home. It was only a matter of time before he found you.

“I am sorry, Barry. I thought if you never knew, you’d be happier. I hoped you’d listen to me and run away without ever having to hear the truth.”

Standing at Barry’s side, who sat in the chair at the desk, Len squeezed his shoulder tightly. He’d killed his own father happily, after Lewis had basically been the cause of their mother’s death. For Barry, it wasn’t that simple. They’d been a good family, happy.

What Eobard had let happen was the whole reason vampires were reviled.

“I can’t believe it was Dad who…” Barry clenched his eyes shut, allowing stray tears to leak free. “He’s so far gone, he thinks this is how to make it up to me? There has to be some way to reach him.”

“I don’t want your faith in your father to be what undoes you,” Len said, lost the moment Barry’s eyes looked at him, shimmering green.

“But you had faith in me. I just want to give him a chance—”

“And if it’s not enough? If he tries to kill innocents, people from our pack, Ray and Oliver again?”

Barry had no answer, but he turned back to Eobard with a breath to steady himself. “How do we find him?”

“He could be anywhere,” Eobard said, “but I don’t think it’ll matter. He’ll come to you or find some way to lure you out exactly where he wants you. I can’t fight him, Barry, even as his sire.” He scooted closer to the edge of the bed, pleading. “But you can. You already did. I wasn’t sure it was possible, but you proved me wrong. So do it again. I don’t know if you can reach him, but you can defeat him.”

A knock sounded at the door before any of them could say more. Len squeezed Barry’s shoulder again before going to answer it.

“What’s wrong?” Len allowed his sister into the room, her face scrunched as she held a cell phone to her chest.

“I’m not sure. It’s Cisco, but he sounds strange. He told me to find you—all three of you—and to put him on speaker.”

Len, Barry, and Eobard looked to each other in surprise as Lisa held the phone aloft and pressed the speaker button.

“Good,” Cisco said, distant and monotone. “It’s time to come home, Barry. Tonight. After the sun sets. Meet us there.”

“Us?” Barry bolted to his feet, but the line went dead.

“Oh god,” Lisa pulled the cell phone to her chest again, “he has him. Do you think he knows—”

“That Cisco’s a Focus?” Len broke in. “Yes, I’d wager he does.”

Eobard sat taller with growing dread darkening his expression. “A vampire Focus, a human Focus, and the two of you? Those prophesies you mentioned…this is what they mean. That kind of power amplified could enthrall everyone in the city.”

Len felt a cold chill stir in his gut. He knew that if he had killed Barry that night under the red moon, he could have prevented all this, but who knows what wrath Henry Allen would have unleashed on Central City if he had.

There was more benefit from Barry living, both to calm the beast threatening his city and to give Len something he never would have believed he could have for himself.

He caught Barry’s eyes and linked their hands together.

“You’re more powerful than him, Barry,” Eobard continued. “That’s why he needs you—to funnel that control. But you’ll have to use every ounce of your restraint to beat him.”

“And something else,” Len reminded them, thinking of the last prophesy as everyone’s attention returned to him. “I think it’s time to reveal our ace in the hole.”

 

XXXXX

 

Len looked to Barry beside him in the backseat as Mick drove them to Barry’s childhood home. That’s where Henry meant for them to go— _home_.

Barry was dressed in all black, including Len’s own trench coat that he’d asked to borrow when he saw it hanging in Len’s closet while they got ready.

“Why?” he’d asked him, not that he minded the sleek portrait Barry painted.

“It’s what I wear in my dreams,” Barry had said, a mixture of resolve and remorse. “I remember it all now. Maybe part of that is prophecy too, but then I want to make it mine to prove I won’t let him rule me, no matter how much I…” His voice caught, and he sniffled, fighting back emotion.

Len had pulled him close to hold him to his side just like he did now, wrapping his arm around Barry to lean his head on his shoulder.

“I won’t tell you everything will be fine, but I do think we can win. Do you know why?”

“Why?” Barry asked softly.

“Because the prophesy repeated something. That we can beat him as long as we do it together.”

They had a caravan behind them, no inner circle members left at the den. Even Ray and Oliver had insisted on joining. After the transfusion, Ray had healed to almost full capacity. They were an army to face off against a vampire and a single thrall, but they knew every person would be needed.

Len checked his cell phone. Every person, including the last who would be meeting them there.

Barry sat tall as they pulled up in front of the blue house with its brick and white fencing along the porch. It was a lovely home, picture perfect of suburban life, but Len knew it was no happy picture for Barry now as he remembered the last time he’d been there.

“The living room is the only place large enough for a standoff,” Barry said, not yet opening his door to get out. “Where Mom died…”

“I wish I could say you don’t have to go in, Barry, but…”

“I’m okay.” He looked at Len, and though his smile was strained, it was still breathtaking. “Are you sure you’re glad you saved me that night? Glad you gave in when I wouldn’t let you push me away, even though I ruined all your plans?”

Len tilted his head as if honestly contemplating that. “Leo isn’t complaining.”

Barry snickered.

“Ray isn’t much either. I would have made a terrible husband.”

“I don’t know. Maybe you just needed the right partner.”

“Is that a proposal?”

“After less than two weeks?” Barry raised a skeptical eyebrow, but then centered his gaze on Len without anything more to say.

Len gripped the side of his face and kissed him. “I will give your father one thing. At least his plan of bringing us together proves he has good taste.”

Another snicker, because in a crisis sometimes the only thing to do was laugh.

Mick cleared his throat. The other vehicles had all pulled up, some further down the street to draw less attention from the neighbors, but the pack was beginning to gather, leaving only Len and Barry to exit onto the sidewalk.

“What about the current owners?” Hartley asked once they all stood before the first set of steps up to the porch.

“Eobard owns it,” Barry said. They’d released him from the basement, but he’d elected not to join them, afraid he’d be more of a liability than any help. “He assumes Dad’s been staying here all this time. I didn’t even think to visit when I first got to town. I couldn’t imagine being here again…”

Axel came up to grip Barry’s shoulder in support.

“We’re all here with you, Barry,” Leo said. “And actually, one question.” He turned to Amaya. “Since Lenny and I are twins, can’t I offer any sort of edge?”

“Three with the power, but one unenlightened,” Lisa recited part of one of the prophesies.

“Well, that's just rude.” Leo wrinkled his nose. “We're identical.”

“I think it's more than what we are,” Len said, gesturing between him and his brother, then shifting to gesture between him and Barry, “but what _we_ are. Together.”

Leo sniffled with a comical hand to his chest. “No fair getting me soggy before a fight,” he said, then remembered Ray was there, closer to the back of the group with Oliver. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Ray said and looked like he meant it too.

“We should wait until—”

“Please,” Barry interrupted Len. “I know we can’t stop him alone, but I don’t want to _stop_ him, I want to…”

“Save him,” Lisa said gently.

There were sympathetic faces all around, but Barry focused on her, Leo, and Len. “He’s my dad. And I know yours was terrible, but mine was amazing. He was kind and selfless and always made time for me and whatever silly geeky thing I was into. He’s doing all this for me, I just need to convince him it’s the wrong way to bring us together.”

“Okay, Barry,” Len said. “If you’re sure. We’re with you.”

The neighborhood was quiet, almost unnaturally so, and the same was true of the house when they entered with Barry leading. The lights were on in the entryway, soft, homey, like Len could imagine might have been true for after dinner back when Barry and his parents would gather in front of the TV or on the floor to play a boardgame.

Barry turned for the living room to the left, pulling back with a start at the entrance even though it was no surprise to find Henry by the fireplace with Cisco in front of him.

“Cisco!” Lisa all but bolted forward, but smartly stopped at Len’s side. “He’s not even part of all this. Let him go!”

“Isn’t he?” Henry said, his voice reminding Len of Barry’s, just older and with a sinister edge. “I wasn’t either once, but being a Focus is partially to blame for why I was so out of control that even my sire was powerless. If I wasn’t spared misery, why should he be?”

“Dad,” Barry said, before Lisa could spout off anything too sharp or goading, while Leo came up on Barry’s other side, the four of them at the forefront, with the others gathered behind them. “Please, you don’t need to do this. I already forgive you. It wasn’t your fault. What happened to Mom… Eobard told me, but I don’t hate you for it. I just miss you. You don’t need to—”

“What kind of father would I be,” Henry interrupted, stepping to the side of Cisco, who merely stared forward like a doll, “if I didn’t give you the world, like I always promised?”

“I don’t need—”

“I took the world away from you because I lost control.” He looked down, and Len saw what he imagined was a shadow of the man Henry Allen used to be. “I can be in control now. I can control everything so you never have to fear again, so you can have love and friends and the whole city, all things Eobard kept from you to keep you away from me.”

His eyes flashed with a bright golden power when he looked forward again, and Cisco swayed like being summoned. Len couldn’t imagine what either of them could possibly do against their army, Focuses or not, but then he heard creaks of the floorboards despite not having smelled anything when they entered.

“I have to give Eobard credit. His rune idea to mask someone’s scent and presence is commendable. I’ve used the same thing for years but having an extra Focus around is very useful for projecting that farther.”

The creaking continued as out of every visible entrance around them appeared half-turned and enthralled shifters as if Henry had gone back to the Shelter to recruit every adult there.

“Even over a whole house,” Henry finished with a grin.

As Len and his pack backed away to hug the walls, too late to escape because they were quickly being surrounded, he heard Barry mutter, “Oh, this is going to suck.”

 

TBC...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter to go!
> 
> Thank you all for all your comments and support. :-)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End

Barry saw in his mind’s eye how easily everything was about to erupt into far more terrible carnage than Rosa’s arm getting ripped off. There were too many of them, all of them shifters, out of control, in too tight a space.

“Dad—” He cut off with a cringe, feeling that pressure again, the force of his father’s thrall trying to turn him to his will. It hurt, more powerful than before with Cisco’s help, but Barry’s will was stronger too. “Stop…”

“Barry!” Len yanked him down as several shifters sprinted toward them.

Mick came forward in their defense with a swinging fist, packing such a punch that he sent two shifters sprawling back into another with a single hit. He roared, larger than any of the others as he shifted to Stage Three, shredding most of his clothing during the change.

Lisa and Leo shifted too but only to Stage Two like most of the shifters crowding them. Leo’s fur was silver like Len’s, but Lisa’s was a warm brown like her hair.

Barry felt another press of power from his father during his distracted thoughts and clenched his eyes against it, because the line of his friends around him wasn’t enough to take on everyone coming forward, especially not when Barry looked over his shoulder, still crouched with Len, and saw even more shifters swarming in.

There were some coming from upstairs that Sam and Rosa sprinted toward to hold off.

Others came from the door to the right of the stairs into the kitchen, which Hartley, Axel, and Roy made a wall against.

More still came in from the front door that Shawna couldn’t hold shut, even with Oliver and Ray turning to help her.

Worse was when Amaya and Mark near the back wall of the foyer tried casting spells, but the door into what was once Henry’s office burst open. Nate, ducking back with them to help, was nearly snatched up by lunging hands like a scene out of _Night of the Living Dead_.

“Please!” Barry whirled his attention to his father as Len lurched him to his feet. He could feel the soft brush of fur growing on Len's arms, clinging to Barry as if afraid to join Mick and his siblings and be turned against them like earlier. “You can’t make up for losing control by controlling me!”

A Lizard with far too many rows of teeth broke through the line Mick was trying to hold back, Lisa and Leo already overwhelmed by others, so Len had to give up his hold on Barry and shift.

Barry hated how powerless he felt standing there as Len snatched the bounding Lizard out of the air by the throat and tossed it into a corner. Barry needed to fight too, but all these people were innocent; he didn’t want to hurt them.

“We have to incapacitate Cisco!” Len called.

“Don’t hurt him!” Lisa pleaded.

“Cisco will survive a concussion! We won’t survive this!” Len growled, jumped by two cat-like shifters the next second, while Mick was too busy taking on three or four shifters at a time. Barry had to act.

Zipping forward, he grabbed both cats by their clothing and slammed them together as roughly but as carefully as he could, finding a balance that knocked them cold without causing too much damage.

Henry wasn’t stupid. He remained behind Cisco with a row of shifters in front of them holding the line while others attacked. It was constant, but as long as Barry didn't swing too hard, he was able to take out several at once without lasting harm.

“This is foolish, Barry. _Yield_ ,” Henry called over the din, and again Barry felt that press.

He couldn't let them hurt his father, he thought suddenly, lashing out to grab the closest offender.

Len.

No— _Leo_.

Barry had him by the throat, squeezing too tightly, making Leo choke and claw at him, his bright wolf eyes dimming…

 _No_ , Barry wrenched free of his father's control, releasing Leo with a twist of shame in his gut. Leo merely smiled at him, huffing relief and patting Barry's cheek before he spun to slash at the next attacker.

Just like everyone else with Barry, he could do this—because he had to.

The number of shifters streaming in ahead of them was dwindling, save the line guarding Cisco and Henry, but when Barry glanced back once more at the rest of the pack, he saw them struggling.

None of them wanted to hurt these people. They weren’t enemies, they were slaves, but it was much harder to fight when holding back.

Sam and Rosa were faring as best they could with just the two of them, bottlenecking the stairs to keep from being surrounded, but their strength was waning against such a massive push of bodies. They seemed about to burst back, thrown down the steps, but the sudden appearance of a dozen rats surging upwards between their legs saved them.

“About time!” Sam growled through his rows of Lizard teeth.

“It's a nice neighborhood, okay?” Hartley cried back in explanation.

He had Axel and Roy on either side of him as he called his rats, the slightest of fur on each of them with Hartley and Axel both sporting whiskers that under different circumstances, Barry would have found cute.

Hartley and his rats could only help so much though since a whole other horde of enthralled shifters were pushing on them from the kitchen. Roy was an artist more than a fighter, even as a wolf, and as fierce as Axel might have been as a cat, the three of them weren't enough.

Then Shawna slammed the front door shut with a cry of success, and Ray leapt forward to launch at those closing in on Hartley, leaving Oliver to help Shawna keep the door shut.

Barry had overpowered Ray so easily before, but against his own kind, he was incredible, shifting to Stage Three to charge through a column of attackers and knock them off their feet, barring several others from getting through.

That left Nate and the magic users, who couldn’t get any spells off with how they had to defend with teeth and claws, trying to keep Nate between them, who still managed to get in a good punch every now and then.

Barry considered rushing to help them but then remembered he had power without moving a step and summoned a ball of lightning like Mark had taught him.

“Duck!” Nate cried when he saw it careening toward them, and he, Amaya, and Mark all dropped. As the surge of electricity slammed into the shifters pushing out of the den, it knocked them flat.

Mark caught Barry’s eye with a grin and started summoning his own storm, Amaya chanting something with a hand on his shoulder that made runes light up all down his arm, empowering his spell that much greater.

It was Barry this time who cried, “Duck!” but Len and those closest to him were too encumbered.

As Mark launched his lightning ball into the living room, Barry used his speed to pull each of the others out of the way until they became a huddle in the center of the room, leaving Mark’s spell to erupt with an impressive pulse that knocked everyone else in the living room to the floor.

Including _Cisco_ , who flew back into Henry and slammed him against the fireplace.

Barry flashed forward before anyone else could recover, over the downed shifters to reach Cisco, and grabbed either side of his face to force his will between Cisco and Henry.

“ _Stop_.”

Cisco blinked in Barry's hold. “Barry? What the fu—”

“No!” Henry roared, and Barry thought he'd snatch up Cisco, but he moved past Barry, too fast to stop, and grabbed Len from the ground. “This is your fault!” he cried, raging far more dangerously than Barry, with Len dangling like he weighed nothing in Henry's grasp. “I was wrong. If you were the one, this would be over by now. You were never worthy of my son!”

“Dad!”

Everything stopped like someone had pressed the pause bottom, Barry feared at first because it was too late, only to realized his father had stopped too but like he didn't know why his grip wasn't as strong as it should be.

The house was still, the fighting stopped as well, and the front door must have opened again, because Ralph Dibny came into the living room, calm as can be, right through the others until he stood beside Henry and patted him on the shoulder.

"Hey man, chill," he said exhaustedly, like all he wanted was a drink.

Completely the opposite of that press on Barry’s skull, he felt a wave of release and freedom pulse outwardly from the contact point of Ralph’s hand. Cisco was free, and so was everyone else, but more than that, Barry’s strength felt like it used to when he was human, and he knew everyone else felt human too.

Len pried himself from Henry’s grip, coughing and breathing deep, while Henry stood stunned, staring at his suspended arm and then at Ralph.

“A Null…” he whispered, as if his mind had cleared too.

“For the record,” Ralph turned to Len, “I was not late. You started without me.”

“ _No_.” Henry shook his head, fangs still barred as he snapped at Ralph, who recoiled back, and then he spun to look at Barry. “You don’t understand. This was all for you.”

“No, Dad,” Barry said, moving forward through the quiet crowd, feeling somehow stronger, despite being reset to human with Ralph's presence. “You don’t understand. But I hope someday you can.” Clenching his fist with unrelenting resolve, he reared back and cracked his father across the jaw hard enough to drop him.

 

XXXXX

 

It wasn’t only Len that Barry had to ask permission from, but the whole pack, Ray and Oliver as their neighbors, and every enthralled shifter who awakened with expressions of horror once their master was unconscious.

Most of them wanted Henry dead, but Barry pleaded, begged them to understand and have mercy, and swore that he’d be the one responsible for whatever happened next.

“If there’s ever any doubt, any danger at all, ever again, I’ll be the one who kills him.”

For now, Henry took up the basement bed that Eobard had vacated, and that Barry had stayed in originally too. It was a cell but one far better than Barry’s at Blackgate, with a desk, all the books Henry could ask for, anything he might ask for, and later, when it came time to feed, Ralph would be present and Barry too to ensure Henry never hurt anyone again.

With Barry’s true sire identified and held captive, Amaya was able to correct the runes she’d placed to prevent Henry from swaying Barry. He believed he could resist his father of his own will, but it comforted him, nonetheless.

Henry was still unconscious when they went to bed that night. Eventually, Barry would face him, but he lost himself in the bustle of the house when he first woke up.

Len had let him sleep in, something Barry hadn’t thought he could do anymore being a vampire, but he’d needed it, because he felt refreshed if still bothered by the weight in his stomach.

Entering the kitchen, he found Len with Eobard. Len quickly gave them each a nod and excused himself.

“You’re going back to Gotham?” Barry asked.

“Kate promises to continue giving me asylum now that this has been resolved.”

“Oh.” Barry glanced away. Eobard had still lied to him, veiled him from having lasting relationships outside the two of them for years, but he’d done it all trying to save Barry from everything that had happened the past two weeks.  

“I hope you can forgive me someday, Barry,” Eobard said, not trying to touch him or do anything but say goodbye, “as you are trying to forgive your father.”

“I’d like it if you visited once in a while,” Barry said when Eobard turned to go. “I can visit Gotham too. And call. I’m trying to start over with Dad, but I want that for us too.” He had so little family from when he was growing up, he didn’t want to lose either of his fathers.

It was strange, Barry thought, when Eobard smiled at him that he’d never noticed before how his uncle hadn’t aged since they met. “I’d like that. I have to ask though… Are you sure you’re doing the right thing with your father? He’s powerful and dangerous. He could have killed countless people and taken over the entire city.”

“Why didn’t you ever try to kill him?” Barry asked instead of answering right away.

“He’s my child, in a way, my responsibility. Just like with you, Barry.”

In the end, that was the only answer that mattered. “And he’s still my dad. I have to believe I can reach him. He’s lived in Central all this time and they never knew there was a vampire here. He must have been feeding without killing anyone. Even if it was only to bide time…he’s worth believing in.”

“I really am sorry, Barry. For everything.”

“I know.”

“It’s my fault. You are allowed to blame me more than him.”

“It’s not about blame, Uncle Eo. All that matters is healing.” Barry moved forward, feeling more confident in where they stood with each other, and they hugged, lifting one of the many weights from Barry’s shoulders.

Ray and the Queens were leaving too, back to Starling. They’d been in Central City for weeks and needed to return home. They were saying their goodbyes in the living room after Barry saw Eobard to the door, everyone much more cordial with each other than they’d been before Barry entered their lives, which he supposed meant he hadn’t screwed things up too badly.

Felicity and Nate were chatting, the two resident humans in a house full of monsters, while understanding that sometimes the real monsters weren’t what you’d expect.

“Barry!” William flew over to tackle his legs with a hug. “Thank you.”

“What for this time?”

“Everything. I think I can still make my project work too. Now, I can have a section about how traumatic events make it even harder for people to remember things, since all their focus gets turned onto that. It’ll make a great conclusion for the science fair. It’s next week, so…maybe you can come?”

Barry was amazed by this kid, who still managed to turn everything terrible that had happened into something good. “I’d like that.”

“You and Leonard can both come,” Felicity said as she joined them. “Have to keep diplomacy alive after we’re home, right?”

“About that…” Leo said somewhat cryptically. Others were closing in too—Leo, Len, Oliver, and Ray—the house positively alive and optimistic even with the new boarder in the basement. “I was talking with Ray before we all parted ways last night, and given the unprecedented situation with vampires and Seers and Nulls, oh my, maybe I’d be best served acting as ambassador for a few months. See what Starling has to offer while I’m moving out of Coast City.”

“What about your job at the museum?” Len said in suspicion.

“They have museums in Star City.”

Barry failed at hiding his smirk, especially since Len looked unconvinced, and Oliver rolled his eyes.

“It is impressive that this city sports a Focus, a Null, and an alpha and vampire with parentage who were both,” Ray said. “You’re a city to keep close ties with.”

“Even without a marriage?” Len asked.

“I told you, Leonard, I don’t need that kind of bond to want to help my neighbor. Although…” He glanced at his feet like a much younger man fighting a blush. “There is precedent for these types of arrangements to pass to members of the inner circle or...to the alpha’s family on occasion. If any of the other cities balked at all this.”

“There’s precedent for that?”

“Of course,” Leo piped in. “You never pay attention to history when it doesn’t suit you, Lenny.”

“Are you volunteering?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” Leo shared a brief smile with Ray. “I’m simply going to be ambassador in these unpredictable times. Anything else that happens can do without labels. For now.”

Ray was definitely blushing.

Lisa broke up their congregation to steal Len and Leo away, and Oliver came forward to shake Barry’s hand without saying more, though that gesture alone said so much. After a quick hug from Felicity and another from William, they headed for the door to await Ray outside.

Barry assumed Ray was simply waiting on Leo, but he stayed beside Barry and offered a hand to him too.

“Um, I…”

“No more needs to be said, Barry. Some things turn out the way they were meant to,” Ray said, prompting Barry to accept his hand gladly. “Besides, Leo and I have a lot more in common.”

Barry chuckled. He’d had a feeling. “Plus, he is super hot.”

“Super hot,” Ray agreed, and they laughed, smiling and parting as friends.

Left alone, Barry looked around at everyone still in the living room or just outside in the halls. Of course there was Len and Lisa teasing Leo about having his bags packed already for his new adventure, a group Ray soon joined to say his final goodbyes.

There was Nate, coming back from seeing the Queens out—Barry thought maybe he and Felicity had exchanged numbers to stay in contact as a rare breed of pack-humans and nerds. He joined Amaya on the sofa, who was showing some very simple runic magic to Frankie. She hadn’t officially moved in yet, but she’d been there since breakfast apparently, getting to know the inner circle and the den.

Sam and Rosa were there too, sitting close on the floor like they preferred, both explaining to Frankie that she could learn from everyone if she liked, get a feel for combat, magic, stealth, maybe even find a place as an inner circle member herself one day.

“When I retire,” Rosa stretched out her legs, head on Sam’s shoulder, “I plan to leave a kickass replacement.”

Mick, Shawna, and Mark were discussing watchmen duties for the basement door, planning out a schedule until they could be certain the lock was good enough—or even that one day, no lock would be needed.

Roy came in from behind Barry then, stopping to pat his shoulder. “Let me know if you need to skip your shift later.”

“No, I…I think I’ll need the break, after I’ve spent some time with my dad.”

“Whatever you need, kid,” Roy said.

That was just the way everyone was here, even if a little rough around the edges—accepting, communal. Even Cisco was present this morning. He hadn’t known he was a Focus, but he knew everything now. They’d been trying to ease him in considering waking up in Barry’s childhood home amidst all that chaos had been a shock. Still, he seemed to be acclimating fine.

He and Hartley were currently arguing about what Barry was certain revolved around Pokémon and had likely been inspired by Cisco’s Bulbasaur tattoo. Axel laughed as he watched them, thoroughly enjoying their discussion, just wanting to be near the madness, even if he wasn’t contributing.

“Darling,” Leo startled Barry, suddenly right there with Lisa again. Len and Ray were still talking, but it was clear Ray and Leo would leave soon.

Barry accepted Leo’s hug with gusto.

“Now, you just say the word if you need me to come back, and I will take the first train from Starling.”

“I’ll be fine. I think it’s going to be just me and Dad and a lot of talking for a while.”

“Even so. You call and let me know how you’re doing.”

“I will. And you too. I want to hear all about your…ambassadorship.” Barry grinned, and Leo let out a laugh that was mischievous and carefree.

“It will be an interesting few months at the start, I think. For all of us.” Leo raised an eyebrow at Barry, then turned to Lisa much the same.

She didn’t bother hiding the way she looked over at Cisco. “Round robin of gossip weekly?” she suggested. “ _Without_ Lenny. He’ll just be a drag.”

They agreed it was a date.  

“Now come on, Barry,” she grabbed his arm after Leo went to say his goodbyes to the others. “You need to help me get Cisco settled. He’s family now too.”

Barry never used to think he’d have so much family to go around. It soured him for a moment, since his flesh and blood family was a prisoner downstairs, but he refused to let that ruin all the good he had around him.

Especially when he glanced into the hallway, and his eyes met Len’s, who didn’t seem to mind how any of this had turned out either.

Later, when everything was still and Barry had assured Len that he was fine visiting Henry alone, he went down to find his father awake on the edge of the bed and sat in the chair across from him.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Barry.” Henry reached for him, but Barry shook his head, raising his hand in kind to gesture for Henry to stay seated, mirror images in that moment as if glass separated them.

“Not yet. Not for a while. We’re going to take this slow. But you are going to listen to me.”

 

XXXXX

 

Maybe, if Len thought hard enough about it, he did love Halloween again like he had when he was little, but he’d have to wait until next year to know for sure.

The prophesy, at least, had not turned out at all like he expected, and he was grateful for that.

“You’re sure you don’t want to see it first?”

“More than sure, Barry. I trust you.”

Barry hummed approval, finished placing the stencil paper to transfer the design onto Len’s skin. All that remained was to trace the lines and color the picture in ink, something Len had never experienced, but he wasn’t afraid of needles.

He didn’t know what Barry was going to ink him with, simply asked for it to be on his left shoulder, only as large as the expanse of the blade, and for it to be something to remember the past few weeks by as they finally began to move on.

It was a new beginning for them both.  

Len didn’t so much as hiss when the needle first pressed to his skin. It hurt, but there were times when it was almost numb tracing over scar tissue, even a few places that felt pleasant like scratching a deep itch.

“What are we doing after this?” Barry asked, hushed as he worked, though there was no one to disturb them. Roy had long since locked up for the night, leaving them in the back of the shop. “You said you had something to show me.”

“I do. A promise to keep. Took a little longer than expected, but we’ve had a lot on our plates organizing things with Star City, settling the pack…”

“Babysitting dad.”

“Like I said, Barry, I trust you. He’s not a burden and neither are you.” There might come a day when that would change where Henry was concerned, but Len hoped not. He hoped Barry was right and that he reached his father someday.

Lewis Snart had deserved his end. Maybe Henry Allen could earn a better one.

An hour passed with quiet conversation before Barry announced that he was finished.

“Ready to see it?”

“Your work is always spectacular. I’m hardly a worthy canvas.”

“You are the most beautiful canvas I could ask for,” Barry said, placing a kiss to the top of Len’s shoulder, well above the start of his healing skin. “I hope you like it.”

With a dazzling smile and his green eyes glittering, Barry helped Len from the table and led him to the full-length mirrors against the wall so Len could look on what had been memorialized across his shoulder blade.

Like watercolor, varied shades of grey clouds parted to reveal a rising blood moon in a starry night sky, with beautifully written script along the bottom that read:

_…by the red moonlight…_

“It’s perfect,” Len said, marveling at the way the clouds seemed real enough to move. He had seen what he thought were visions of his own past in Barry’s sketches when he first saw them, but finally this was something they’d lived through together and Barry had immortalized—words Len had lived by and managed not to ruin.

“I know you’ll heal right away, but I still want to cover it before you put your shirt back on.” Barry did so, then helped Len dress despite him saying he was fine.

The wound felt mostly like a bad sunburn. He’d survive.

“Now will you tell me what you have to show me?” Barry asked.

Len considered him, leaned close into his space, saying “No,” and pecked Barry gently on the lips. “But you’ll find out soon enough.”

“Do we need to call Mick to pick us up?”

“Our destination is within walking distance.”

Funny, Len thought, once they were outside making their way down the street—it was a full moon tonight, which meant it had been a month since Halloween. Felt like ages ago yet also like only last week.

Barry fidgeted, antsy to know the surprise, but they only had to cross the street the opposite direction from The Winter Rose florist shop. Len opened the door with a key that led them into a building with rows of doors into a variety of office spaces. At the very back on the right was a new door with brand new glass and a neatly etched name.

“Allen Investigations?” Barry said in a breath. “You… This is for me?”

“Mayor Dibny came through with your license, but I figured you needed a place of your own, more than just a room at the mansion. You can keep the tattoo job if you wish—”

“I do. I love it there. But this…” Barry’s expression lit up with honest joy.

“It’s yours. I’m sure there will be many mysteries to solve less harrowing than your own.” Len held up another key, and this time handed it to Barry.

With a wide smile, Barry used it to enter the office. It was nothing extravagant, but contained a desk, a chair, shelving, filing cabinets, all the usual trimmings. Even a plant, courtesy of Amaya, to bring good luck.

Len watched Barry trace everything with curious fingers. A PI in the pack would be good for the city, but that wasn’t the prominent thought in Len’s mind. Barry was happy, and that made Len feel surprisingly fulfilled too.

“Any feelings about the future?” Len asked once Barry stood before his new desk.

“Why? Lisa hasn’t had any visions, has she?”

“Nothing she’s mentioned.”

“I can’t think of anything. You?”

“Nothing concrete. But my intuition tells me it’s going to be very enjoyable.” Slipping his hands around Barry’s waist, Len pulled the younger man close.

“You know,” Barry hummed, “I am a little hungry.”

“About that time of week, isn’t it? I suppose I could let you steal a taste.” Len leaned closer, tilting his head to give Barry a clear view of the length of his neck. “Or are you looking to christen this shiny new desk somewhat differently?”

Barry grinned back at him and spun them around, crowding Len against the desk and hoisting him up on top of it. “All of the above,” he said, kissing Len once, twice, then lingering, lips ever smiling whenever they weren’t connected.

All the while, the moonlight shone down on them through the window, bright and golden, like Barry’s eyes when they flashed with power.

Even better than red.

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another ride, another ColdFlash happy ending. I have enjoyed this one so much, and all of your kind comments. They really make this worth it and so fulfilling. 
> 
> Now, I'm even more excited to get back to Interpretive Hearts. 
> 
> Stay tuned!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know your thoughts!


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